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Tytuł: GET UP GET DOWN

  • Wykonawca: Coolio
  • Wy¶wietleń: 235
Verse One: Malika
  Steppin up out the shadows I comes equipped to wreck
  Hold up just a sec Coolio I'm on deck (Malika)
  Yes the diction is on point
  Causin, friction when I flex up the jaw or hit the joint
  That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
  Like the body cool, keep the scrap for the naughty
  Niggie trippin why you scheme so don't step up with no bullshit
  See that there it's clip for this stickup on the hip
  Peep the correct way to get your pimp on
  Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong
  Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her
  If I'm swingin for the knockout, best believe I'm fit to drop her
  Ninety-five's on pocket, representin I keep stompin
  Throw up my fists just like this when I'm mobbin
  
  Verse Two: Shorty
  
  I killed the last, killed the ass, with my ninety-five drive
  I'm deep like d-cell with my Crimson Tide, nigga
  Like Chaka Khan, I tell you something good
  I'm Hi-C like Spike Lee with a Tale From the Hood
  You need it, I'll feed it, baby check the size
  Have you Goin Down like Mary J. Blige
  When it's popping like this, you can't be a coward
  Shorty freaks fuckin beats like Adina Howard
  My squad, is hard, with players, and hustlers
  No toleration, for fakers and busters
  Fuckin with me with all honesty
  You get bombed rap songs coming constantly
  Bumpin G-15's, Westside scene
  Killin the competition, while making a fuckin green
  So ring, around the rosie, and mosey to the Rosie
  And I want you to know G
  
  Chorus:
  
  We bust and cuss and kick up dust
  Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
  So what's the time? It's time to get paid
  Why you bust your rhyme? Cause I got skills
  
  We bust and cuss and kick up dust
  Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us
  So what's the time? It's time to get paid
  Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail
  
  Verse Three: Leek Ratt (of 40 Thevz)
  
  Watch me swallow this nickel and shit five pennies
  I'm the loc'est of them all though the rat is kinda skinny
  How many linny and squidgy think they can see me?
  I'm from Compton where even in the summer niggaz wear beanies
  Bustin lyrics sharper than razor blades catch it from head to toe
  if you're shocked, then amazed, when you see me at my stage show
  For my stage show beat em up
  40 Thevz gettin busy rockin coast to coast
  Dogs the most rap the hoes then rocks em up
  Givin it up for hip-hop vicitims how should I drop em and then pop em
  for poppin like to get what I got, and I ain't got a whole lot of nuthin
  cuz I been ruffin and scuffin so give it up when I'm bustin or get to duckin
  cuz I ain't given em nuthin
  Fools can't get none, so fuck em!
  
  Verse Four: PS
  
  Let me rock the motherfuckin mic
  Smoke a whole stick of dynamite, then fight all night
  I got jabs like a welterweight champion
  The pocket-pincher purse-snatcher pistol-packin
  quick to get it crackin
  Went from jackin to rappin to runnin with a pack of mad men
  Pull a trick out my sleeve like Aladdin
  Some fool tried to play me for a punk I had to have him like
  lunch or dinner, he's just a beginner
  Fuckin with a winner, number one contender top dog
  Head nigga in charge runnin with a group of hogs
  40 Thevz, MAAD Circle, Cat, and Crowbar
  Best to put your daughterWack ass rappers get tossed upTrying to come in here with that garbageMy crew see the dopest and the hardest
  So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed
  
  Chorus 1/2
  
  Verse Five: Ras Kass
  
  I peep game and get recognized, biting on the hard liquor
  toothpick and beedy-dyin
  Bitch you got dealt, peeled your cap the other way
  like a reversible Louis-Vitton Gucci belt
  And ain't nothin crackin
  For them niggaz steppin up with the funk I'm packin Tinactin
  Cuz I be earnin stripes in tight bunches
  All the homies carry nines I carry rhymes with sucker punches
  What? Tootsie, my knees don't bend
  Just like that actor Hoffman I be Dustin off men often
  Jay-walking over your coffin with an eleven shot loss and
  jaw wrecked that Osten won't soften you're lost and
  see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin
  Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between
  so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygeine
  Mental plus my gene equals nasty young bastard
  The raps be lung mastered takin vinyl virginity
  Coincidentally I run shit like Walter Payton
  Niggaz player hatin cause I spoke like a Dayton
  I hit the face like Ron Carter at the corner when
  C and B came strollin
  Blowin niggaz up like when Mookie's stupid ass got caught smokin
  Figure, your stigma is lack of enigma
  So bitch-ass niggaz better step, like the Delta Sigma Thetas
  
  Verse Six: Coolio
  
  We don't give a fuck, fools better duck
  39 deep in the back of Wino's truck
  Like robbin in the paint, fool think I ain't?
  Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm pullin rank
  I rev like a motor float ON like a boat to
  kick a style like Tical from here to North Dakota
  The ambassador of funk with amps in the trunk
  And when it's time to rock a mic I won't be no punk
  I bring death to the evil and power to the people
  My name ain't Steve Miller but I Fly Like an Eagle
  Don't play me for a chump, I get around like Gump
  And I, got more con in my verse than Chuck
  And you don't want no motherfuckin problems here
  Cuz I can round up a posse like Paul Revere
  Your whole crew'll get took out, turned out, shook out
  Burned up like a cookout, so fools better look out
  
  Verse Seven: WC
  
  Fresh out the penalty box
  Sportin a stockin cap, cut off dickies, and some high-top striped socks
  The freestyle finatic pyschosomatic back at it causin static
  with lyrics still as tight as a straight jacket
  The last in line but one of the first to get wit cha
  bringin more terror to MC's than a Michigan militia
  Click click boom, nigga fuck your crew
  It's the chanky hip-hopper, takin over pissin in your stage monitor
  socket you think that you can fuck with mine in your wildest dreams
  You best to wake up and apoligize
  Niggaz penetentiary yearn me cuz I, burn like Parker
  but anyway, half of y'all couldn't see me with a pair of Blu Blockers
  The lyrical night stalker stalkin at night in a pair of creased Khakis
  Chuck Taylors, my pistol grip tight
  Dub-C, that nigga from Westside MAAD Circle
   Ay man! Ay ay.
  What's up Wino?
   Uh like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up out of here
  Are we out?
   Yeah yeah fuck it
  Fuck it, MAAD Circle bitch!