Get Down - Intellectual

[Intro]

Get down

[Verse 1]

I see everybody rockin' the same old style

And everyone's sportin' the same profile

And all of y'all wearin' the same name brands

I hear everybody jackin' these played-out jams

I won't reach for no gun, punk, I use my hands

I rock mikes and roll bikes across foreign lands

I made my bones out in zones where the twilight be

And every time I touch the mic, it's Fright Night Part Three

For every MC that wanna test and try

In your custom-made wears thinkin' you too fly

Makin' up in gold chains what you're lackin' for brains

It's time to call your ma, Duke, scoop up your remains

And finally lay to rest all the shit you stressed

Of boastin' and braggin' about the toes you taggin'

I'm knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's door

While every rapper that you simmed gets pimped like a whore

You see, it's August 18th, three quarters past four

When the doctor slaps my ass, hear the lion roar

The record sales soared, and the world got toured

You say, what happened to my band? I say, "I just got bored"

Now they call me Whitey Ford, and I say, "Praise the Lord"

If I ain't breakin' up your crews, catch me singin' the blues

Strummin' and pickin' like I'm BB King

It's Abdul Rakim, now watch me do my thing

[Chorus]

(Get down)

Down, down, you go

(Get down)

Down, down, so low

(Get down)

Down, down, 'til you hit the floor

(Get down)

Keep fallin' down 'til you can't get down no more

[Post-Chorus]

Get down

[Verse 2]

You go point blank range, with your scope he's knockin'

The cycle might change, but there ain't no stoppin'

The moon's on the rise when the sun start droppin'

And y'all need to quit the bullshit you poppin'

'Cause I've been hip-hoppin' since BDP

Drop the [?], it's Abdul Rakim

And when referring to me, you best respect the name

Make a quick double take, and double check your game

'Cause you about to get dissed, I'm checkin' my list

When I check it over twice, it's like rollin' the dice

I hit four-five-six, I'm all up in your mix

I rock good from Hollywood to the City of Bricks

And all these fake cats scream they're keepin' it real

While you're makin' your deal, we'll be breakin' the seal

You be breakin' your vows, like people worshippin' cows

And then I hit you with the who's, what's, where's and how's

Like Vinny Barbarino, Matt Gachino

I'm with my man Rino, with the Brooklyn Lordz

Crashin' the boards with my soul in a hole

I take it back to the future from the days of old

I'm too cold to hold, too hot not to burn ya

Don't stick your nose in business that don't concern ya

Might have to trip and flip like Ike Turner

You too old for schoolin', boy, when I'm gonna learn ya

[Chorus]

(Get down)

Down, down, you go

(Get down)

Down, down, so low

(Get down)

Down, down, 'til you hit the floor

(Get down)

Keep fallin' down 'til you can't get down no more

[Post-Chorus]

Get down