Crown Ones

Written by: Michael Turner & Christopher Portugal


[Thes One:]
Dig the underground sound like an approaching earthquake
Golden-State's plate vibrate eights, your chunks shake
We rock crowns, fitted the sound, get down with it
Swing the scepter soul, the jesters know they bit it
I see them smile through the argyle and good humor
But them ice-cream 16 bars are rap tumors
But YoYoPo ruminates, things are getting great now
Hop the lake, jump a train, just to checkmate
How we make a pawn, take a long pause, and ain't no moving back
One square at a time, dropping dimes on the white and black
Well, we stay the course on this high horse, moving in big L's
She may have a one-track mind, but she selling sea shells
Big power like D-cells, we retail the unexpected
A little this, little that, recipe's perfected
So if you see the hat, then get set
Double K rap, breathing down yo' neck

[Double K:]
It's the P, the funky Lone-Star Strangers
Go for your buns, we in the house, there's danger
Tell the DJ to screw it, slow your body on down
Party on to the last word I mentioned, attention:
All hip-hopping, back is the bass, dropping under the street light
Copping the funk, now tell me whats up
We on your mixtape and do it for a fixed rate
Getting straight to it, no foreplay, just floor play
Skank your shoes off, and thank your new boss:
The workout Jim! The brother ain't slim
But I'm the thin line between funking and fronting
Come to your jam, eat your chips (mmm!), grab the mic
Double split and then rip (Heh heh heh… right)
There ain't no half-stepping, that's what I told Big Daddy Kane
And I bet you somewhere, it's still stuck in his brain
You can't forget it, it's a given, and we taking it back
Like Pack Jam, you'll be, like, "That jam was bumpin'!"
Old ladies be, like, "Them boys sure are something!"
The Latin brothas say, "Órale!", and let the jam play
It's a down one, so when you see me walk up and crown one
You can crown one (you can crown one)…

[Sung sample:] You can't take the crown
Maybe from someone else but not me! (x2)

[Thes One:]
Can't mess with these heavyweights, twisted for the tracking late
Youth Explosion back cover made the funk levitate
You were posing like, "It's cool!", dude, we went and rocked your school
Master tools like Mr. Taylor catering the parlez-vous
Money-making microphone Macco-paints the Plymouth
Catch a vibe like Earl Sheib, spray 'em 'til we finish it
Bodyshopping, body-rocking, block party characters
Those seeming scared of the P are non-perilous
'Cause he's the terrible terrorist, tearing through your cannabis
And Thes'll manhandle those grandstanding Los Angeles producers
We superconductors with bumper crops
Grow 'em like I-5 high fives, brothers call 'em "slumper props"
Talk a lot, but check the disc like RCA puppies
We rock it for you ghetto fresh, we rock it for you yuppies
You talk a lot, but check the disc like RCA puppies (We rock it…)
…that's right dog!

[Double K:] (Huh… check it out…)
It's the return of the one-nation-under-a-groover (mm-hm…)
The young-girl soother, the baby-batter mover (alright…)
I'm down with the maneuver, do it right-to-left
The hero in stereo, some call me imperial
The baller without the '64 Impala
I can take the picture on a dollar, flip it, turn and make it holla back
Younging, microphone thugging, come off that rap
You a BG tripping, and we them OG's bugging
Loving every minute of it, wouldn't put nothing above it
But them folks upstairs, so they can feel the bass boom
Give the ladies waist room, wind up your boom-boom
Brought the funk out the tomb for the ([Spoken sample:] Resurrection!)
Thes One and Double K of the 808 section
We arrange and conduct, you get the finished product
Jumping off the shelves, be the jam of the year
The People Under The stand clear, it's a world premier…

[Sung sample:] You can't take the crown
Maybe from someone else but not me! (x4)
Not me… (x6)

[Spoken sample:] Is your son named Joe Bwabwawawawa? Yeah. I'm sorry, he's dead, miss. Right? Yeah, and then… and then you got little kids come in and go: [beatboxes] understand it, it's funky…


*Important Note: These transcriptions are not verified with P.U.T.S., so there may be errors. We are especially unsure of the greyed-out text. We encourage you to offer your suggestions for lyrics corrections on the site's main page.


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