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