The Basement - Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Grap & Dida, Heavy D

Ahh yeahh!

Feel the funk bay-beeee!

That’s right, this is called The Basement!

And my man CL Smooth kick it for you like this…

From the Heights, not what, am I right?

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 landin', 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 stock

Now, all the horny heffers wanna dangle on my (errr!)

Down by the dungeon with the cracks on the wall

Buffoon, I’m like a mink while you’re soon to pimp a raccoon stall

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 Luva, 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 C.L.

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 C. L

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

Pastime 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

Uhhhhh, that’s right, it’s crazy funky

Aww my man

He’s crazy funky, his name is Rob-O, c’mon baby

Alakazam, you’ll never guess what I am

Motto is that nothin' ever changes but haircuts and kicks

To stacks of vocal breaks like days

What kid said, «Pete makes beats in The Basement»

Cool, 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 sin

I hear voices sayin', «That's Rob Odindo in The Basement»

Ahh ha ha ha!

Hah yeah!

This is funky!

I can feel it

My man from the Vernon, his name is Deda, Baby Pa

Fly like an eagle, a seagull

Always into somethin', like Snoopy, the Beagle

People, grab a tight hold of yourselves

Pa snatchin' raw tapes off the shelves

Blowin' up spots from state to state

I’m comin' to town but you just can’t wait

Check the station for conversation at six

Blah Uno here to put suckers in the mix

I get deeper than oceanography

Diggin' up crazy shit like psychology

So, speak the peace, then slide like grease

The beat is fat, but the rhyme is obese in The Basement

In The Basement is where I dwell, sucka MC’s fell

'Cause I am crazy funky

C.L.

Smooth, my man Rahsaan, Rob-O, Deda Baby Pa

The Heavster, my brother Grap Luva

Everybody…