Nas Lyrics

Album: God's Son

Get Down

"Get-get.. get down!" - [James Brown]

 

 [Nas]

 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 70's

 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 well he asked me

 "Whatchu 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 livin proof

 The D.A. who tried him was lyin

 A white dude, killed his mother durin the case

 Hung jury, now the D.A. is bein replaced

 Pre-trial hearin 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!" - [James Brown]

 [sample cut and repeated]

 [Nas] Everybody

 "Get down, get down! Get down, get down!" - [James Brown]

 [sample cut and repeated]

 

 [Nas]

 Some niggaz fuck they enemies in they ass when they catch 'em

 Weird-ass niggaz are dangerous, so don't test 'em

 They make you, dissapear, this a year that I won't forget

 Sold CD's double platinum, met mo' execs

 Southern niggaz, 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 they car, that shit amazed me

 Put me onto heron blunts, sherm or somethin

 Took a puff, what the fuck, I turned to punch them

 Southern niggaz 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 gangstas, we loungin, out in L.A. see

 A dude wrote my dawg 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 things

 He plugged me with a dame who was half-Mexicano

 Gave the ass up, I'ma mack daddy Soprano

 She passed me the indigo, but the imbecile

 shoulda never tippy-toed, thought my eyes were closed

 Openin the hotel room do', 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 witchu

 He responded cool, but told me out here this how motherfuckers

 

 "Get down, get down! Get down, get down!" - [James Brown]

 [sample cut and repeated]

 [Nas] Everybody

 "Get down, get down! Get down, get down!" - [James Brown]

 [sample cut and repeated]

 

 [unknown speaker]

 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 ain't look at it

 My folk is yo' folk, but we all kinfolk

 Somebody gotta make a change