Come on yeah

Yo I'm from L A cella; vison at ya tuning to my

Figured ya figured ya; microphone the mobile

Holdin' mic just so while I be just day-dreamin'

Drop like nine months and rock backyard to fronts

Who wants to live the gutter life

We got sidewalks to walk baby

I need a chick with big potatoes to mash baby

Hang like parachutes I've been floatin' for years

We went from rappin' in cars ta rappin' careers

One dear two dear I got the gift like Santa

Go from N Y to D C and down to Atlanta

Make ya fly like propellers we beat it down in the cella

Well I guess you call it "basement"

'Cause that's where all the bass went

When we turn it up a notch; old school like Ed Koch

Toss my foot up in the air hoo) grab my crotch

Who am I Michael; keep the music on a cycle

So we can finish and flow within your 'fro

Word out word out

This is called uh frozen style

Chatter your teeth style

Freeze like the artic style y'all

Come on

Check it out

I'm the P to the O to the S

Known to pinpoint a flow to the chest

So wear your vest; nibble the thighs and breasts on Vanessa

Had to sneak it 'cause her mom's kept me under pressure word)

Now as the sun appears to rise and set

Some cats live for the 'hood 'cause it's as good as it gets

But my plot is much thicker yep)

I move it much quicker word)

Three-hundred and sixty miles to the P H

So I'm balanced; not a fella to fall

Connecting the dots; I got two propellers in all

Went from ghetto - to the mettle

Seen all degrees of hot and froze when I was not

Like Lot my lady threw salt in the game

Invest the cheese in the mouse who said: "Walk into fame"

Now you hear my name being screamed on the ride of life

It's too late to get off to get off

We in the house y'all; we in the house y'all

We about to get evicted; there ain't no lights or liquid

The bills ain't paid and last week we had a raid

'Cause we partied too much but that's my family's trade

Invited all of my folks and yo all my folks stayed

They tried to silence my shit but we just pushed up the fade

Sat back and charged a dolla' a head and got paid

And called on the band and got stupid when the keyboard played

Keeping funky with the Propellerheads y'all

Now listen

You see I'm here to usher the pain with no relief

But still get the "Great Scotts are you a thief

Seems like you got a mouth full of gold " records

Sorry for that platinum plaque soon to come

'Til then Propeller got me working the drum

For a fee so notify the 5-0 looking for the fumble oh)

I hear you want to rumble on the mic so check it out

How you want it I got it

Oh yeah