The Basement (Feat. Deda, Grap Luva, Heavy D And Rob-O)
From the Heights, not what am I write, simple I can do this Like Popeye to Brutus, I'm your host like a stewardess Fly with the neighborhood hijackin' fella So prepare for landing and crash into a cellar
Bodies in the Buddha cloud, misty in the tune Like a show all nights, a figure eight in a lagoon With Pete Rock, the complete lock and beat stop Now all the horny heffers wanna dangle on my
Down by the dungeon with the cracks on the wall Buffoon I'm like a mink while you're soon to pimp a raccoon stole Vocal arrangement, ready set to hit the pavement But not before the kid leave the basement
The basement, put the Funk in Grand Here comes my man My brother, Grap Lover, get wreck cousin, c'mon
Call me the Grap Lover, yes, the younger Soul Brother Keep your eyes on the prize 'cause you won't find another When the funk is played, the rhyme I display Quick to bust a ditz so don't slip in the way
Of the kid with the flavor, the party people savior Clockin' all the honies, eyes sharp like a razor I kick a dance step, you're soon to discover Yo, that's the kid from "Mecca And The Soul Brother"
Yeah once in a while I be with CL on the DL Or I flow with Pete and find my placement in The Basement The Basement, yes where the beats and the rhymes flow Peace I gotta go, Grapster's out the door of the basement
Of the basement, next we got, a special guest I ain't gonna tell you who it is C'mon, rap along
Tick, tock, tick, things are gettin' thick Here comes the Heavster and I know it makes ya sick To see a black man gettin' paid on the regular Car with the cellular, fellas I'm tellin' ya
I got plots and plans, pots and pans Stocks and grands, so make room for the big man I walk the streets in peace and I'm never strapped But I know a crew of Young Gunz that'll send you back
So easy does it on the DL Peace to Pete Rock and the Mecca Don CL Heavy D's on this track, lettin' you know there's no replacement Peace signin' off, check one two straight from the basement
Straight from the Basement I'm tellin' you now, kid, it's crazy fat I wonder who this is comin' up?
Fourth but not least, the backbone of the Wig Out Freestyle, crazy hardcore, no sellout Speakin', upon where I dwell from the dungeon All over the U.S. states, even London
Past and present, black to the future Swimmin' in beats like a Dolphin, so call me Don Shula A Raider well like Art Shell, crazy defense A Pro Bowl with soul for local events
The crew name is CL Smooth and Pete Rock Here to sail when I prevail and stare into the dock The Pimp Daddy of the funk flavor, catch you later Clever like a secret agent comin' from the basement
That's right, crazy funky Aww, my man He's crazy funky, his name is Rob-O, check him out
Alikazaam, you'll never guess what I am Motto is that nothin' ever changes but haircuts and kicks To stacks of vocal breaks life pays when Kid said, "Pete makes beats in the basement"
Cold hit, the pavement, over to the chill side The real side, the 7-7 hillside I thought I'd just chill, take a breath Straight up Columbus Hill, make a left and get fixed
Plus the ghetto chicks got flicks Of me stacks of kicks, my joint's bumpin' lovely Walkin' down the street, much props, on the [Incomprehensible] Yo, I hear voices sayin', "That's Rob-O Dingo in the basement" Ahh, yeah, this is funky I can feel it My man from the Vernon, his name is Dida, make it raw Fly like an eagle, a seagull Always into somethi'n, like Snoopy, the Beagle People, grab a tight hold of the sound Hard, snatchin' raw papes off the shelves Blowin' up spots from state to state I'm comin