Get Down - Nas

Get, get, get down

Uh, uh, uh
New York streets where killers'll walk like Pistol Pete
And Pappy Mason, gave the young boys admiration
Prince from Queens and Fritz from Harlem
Street legends, the drugs kept the hood from starvin'
Pushin' cars, Nicky Barnes was the '70s
But there's a long list of high-profile celebrities
Worldwide on the thorough side of things
Livest kings, some died, one guy, one time
One day grabs me, as I'm about to blast heat
40-side of Vernon, I turned while he asked me
"What you up to? The cops gon' bust you"
I was a teen drunk off brew
Stumbled I wondered if God sent him
'Cause two squad cars entered the block
And looked at us; I ain't flinch when they watched
I took it upstairs, the bathroom mirror, brushed my hair
Starin' at a young disciple
I almost gave my life to what the dice do
Yeah man, throwin' them bones
Hopin' my ace get his case thrown
His girl ain't wait for him, she in the world straight hoein'
While he lookin' at centerfolds of pretty girls showin'
They little cooch; gangstas don't die, he's living proof
The D.A. who tried him was lyin'
A white dude, killed his mother during the case
Hung jury, now the D.A. is being replaced
Pre-trial hearing is over, it's real for the soldier
Walks in the courtroom, the look in his eyes is wild
Triple-homicide, I sit in the back aisle
I wanna crack a smile when I see him
Throw up a fist for Black Power, 'cause all we want is his freedom
He grabbed a court officer's gun and started squeezin'
Then he grabbed the judge, screams out, "Nobody leavin'
Everybody—"

Get down, get down! Get down, get down!
Get, get, get, get, get, get, get down!
Everybody
Get down, get down! Get down, get down!
Get, get, get, get, get, get, get down!

Some niggas fuck their enemies in their ass when they catch 'em
Weird-ass niggas who dangerous so don't test 'em
They make you disappear, this a year that I won't forget
Sold CD's double platinum, met mo' execs
Southern niggas, independent label, real killers
Know the business, ran Tennessee for years, now they chillin'
They had the coke game somethin' crazy
Sold music out the trunk of their car, that shit amazed me
Put me onto her-on blunts, sherm or somethin'
Took a puff, what the fuck? I turned to punch them
Southern niggas ain't slow, nigga tried to play me
I left from around them dudes, they cool but they crazy
Now I'm back around the old school that raised me
New York gangsters, we loungin', out in L.A. see
A dude wrote my dog from Pelican Bay
The letter say, "Nas, I got your back, the fools don't play."
I rolled with some Crips down to a Crenshaw funeral
Never saw so many men slaughtered and I knew the ho
Responsible; the nigga still alive in a hospital
Midnight they crept in his room and shot the doctor too
See, my cousin's in the game, thuggin' and thangs
He plugged me with a dame who was half-Mexicano
Gave the ass up, I'm a mack daddy Soprano
She passed me the indigo, but the imbecile
Shoulda never tippy-toed, thought my eyes were closed
Openin' the hotel room door to let her goons in
But I moved in a manner on some Jet Li shit
I let the hammers blow, wet three kids
See honey thought I had somethin' to do with all the drama
'Cause I was with a crew that had her people killed
Called up my cousin, told him I ain't fuckin' with you
He responded "cool," but told me out here this how motherfuckers—

Get down, get down! Get down, get down!
Get, get, get, get, get, get, get down!
Everybody
Get down, get down! Get down, get down!
Get, get, get, get, get, get, get down!

All I really gotta say is that
If that's how our people gon' get down, how we ever gon' get up?
How we ever gon' get up if that's how we get down?
A shame when you really look at it
My folk against your folk, but we all kinfolk
Somebody got to make a change



Credits
Writer(s): Fred Wesley, James Brown, Charles Bobbit, Nasir Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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