The Get Down (Explicit)

The Get Down (Explicit) - Buddha Monk/Da Manchuz

These fake a** niggas better recognize

Ya'll don't know about the squad

Yo yo yo

Ya'll niggas wanna get it poppin' off

Son I spit with the force like a 44 shot let off

Believe me my automatic tongue don't jam I never heard of this man

But I'm about to murder this man a verbalize man

Equip-ed with metaphors that spit that ill sh*t

You and your click couldn't deal with me uh

My murder click me g Kwan and face

Never hesitate to make sh*t up like pool tape

You need a miracle f**king with this imperial ni**a

That's mad lyrical from the physical to the spiritual

Sixteen bars of hell on dateline

Once the track split I react and R**e the baseline

Yo we spit one clip one hit one

You missed son send a kite to get done

As long as the clip run we bound to make it stick son

We done when the clip done never run when the clip done

Lay the smack down on clowns we can get down however

You wanna do it with guns rhymes beats

Yo the stove taste better than your flow pa

You sound like a b**ch your mic skills wear bras

Yeah you lyrical ni**a but that don't mean sh*t

I rock street it's nothing to make a hit song

You know how I do I gets it on and popping

I know how you do rocking thong thong thongs

I write like a beast king Kong kid

Me and my niggas spit verses back and forth like ping pong

Ring the f**king alarm it's fire in here

We evaporate all that b******t you spit

Go back to the lab meditate dig in the crates

You need to sample some James brown and f**k with these sounds

You know how I do it's g-note the hottest ni**a out

No doubt it's nothing

Yo we spit one clip one hit one

You missed son send a kite to get done

As long as the clip run we bound to make it stick son

We done when the clip done never run when the clip done

I keep it thorough rep my borough to the fullest

You ain't the ill est or the realest

You ain't a killa you inc a murder

You think your pen's explosive you ain't ready for war

I give it to you raw like WWF

You stone cold like the rock

It doesn't matter do you smell what's cooking

Your a** is grass you just a preliminary bout

I'm the main event your figures ain't major

You a c-minor you all sound like little jigga's

Since the death of biggie everybody jiggy

Wake up smell the coffee you commit suicide

For silver and tails of gold

My niggas want platinum plaques f**k that

I'm ma sell out I want all my products sold out

Yo we spit one clip one hit one

You missed son send a kite to get done

As long as the clip run we bound to make it stick son

We done when the clip done never run when the clip done

Spit one clip one hit one

You missed son send a kite to get done

As long as the clip run we bound to make it stick son

We done when the clip done never run when the clip done