| Artist/Band: 
Nas Lyrics for Song: Get Down
 Lyrics for Album: God's Son
 
 
 
 21118>"Get-get.. get down!"
 
 [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!"
 {*sample cut and repeated*}
 
 [Nas] Everybody
 
 "Get down, get down!  Get down, get down!"
 {*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!"
 {*sample cut and repeated*}
 
 [Nas] Everybody
 
 "Get down, get down!  Get down, get down!"
 {*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
 
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