Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Montego Slay, artist - People Under The Stairs. Album song O.S.T., in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 01.06.2003
Record label: Om
Song language: English
Montego Slay |
| Ahhh Once again |
| Yes yes |
| Irie |
| Getter rough |
| Get with People Under the Stairs |
| Once again |
| Rough |
| We tackle rhymes like your life lays time |
| We trying to get enough, we gotta fill up |
| Before it’s all gone the song remains on |
| Until the beat stops, nevermind, no need to remind |
| You know who we be, yo it’s the capital G’s |
| Putting the P’s in hip hop, saying hi to the ho’s |
| Who wear hardly any clothes, here’s looking at you |
| Watching you, watching me the incredible MC |
| Chicks call me Mikey (why's that?) cause I like it |
| They stare when I’m digging it and know they wanna try it |
| They like the way I rap, they like the way I chill |
| Couple hours in a conversation show them how I thrill |
| I’m a one minute man I lick it then split it |
| Empty it out fill it in like the blank and I’m out |
| Big Mike that’s right give them something they can feel |
| Yo I’m the top-ranked chief on the wheels of steel |
| I walk the streets of L.A. and feel comfortable |
| Me and the homie make music and they come in with bullets |
| So next time you got a rhyme that’s blazing hot, throw it away |
| People under to save the day |
| Sometimes it ain’t timed, sometimes it can’t be |
| This time we kick back and let your conscious be free |
| The music is playing loud and we never have to leave |
| We never gotta leave, we never gotta leave |
| I ain’t going nowhere |
| Let your conscious be free |
| Yes Yes |
| Irie |
| Beautiful brown skin lady, you move something, Montego Bay-style |
| Smile from the Caribbean isle, no fronting while we pumping the beat |
| Audio files to jumpig like Guile out of their seat |
| With the complete vibe, scooters and 45's to palm trees |
| Red-stripped nights the calm breeze the type to relax |
| Ease back to conceive wax and contact the origin of habitat |
| Two cats making it fat, it’s like that |
| With a rap similar to a pitter-patter of a cat |
| Walking a roof to make it back to the truth |
| (I dig crates) for the late-great existence of black plates |
| To booming the eighths on the floor, making you want more |
| Leaving my mark like a dark mark on a wood floor |
| It’s good for the soul like dinner with your moms |
| People Under the Stairs the duo who drop bombs |
| Snares laid back like armchairs at the beach |
| I’m outta reach, so play my CD and let it teach |
| The recipe: half B. Crocker, half David T. Walker |
| Fresh breath control like Binaca |
| Sometimes it ain’t timed, sometimes it can’t be |
| This time we kick back and let your conscious be free |
| The music is playing loud and we never have to leave |
| We never gotta leave, we never gotta leave |
| Never gotta leave |
| Stay right here |
| Came here to rough up the crowd |
| Yes Yes |
| To the People Under the Stairs |
| Irie Irie |
| We had a fire today in East L. A |
| Hundred and ten got burned |
| The governor said «it's quite OK |
| They’re all on *musical dope* anyway!» |