[Chorus: James Brown sample]
"Get–" "Get–" "Get down!"
[Pre-Verse: Nas]
Uh...
Uh...
Uh...
[Verse 1: Nas]
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 '70s
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 while he asked me
"What you 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' their little cooch
Gangstas don't die, he's living proof
The D.A. who tried him was lyin'
A white dude, killed his mother during the case
Hung jury, now the D.A. is being replaced
Pre-trial hearing 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—"
[Chorus: James Brown sample & Nas]
"Get down" "Get down!" "Get down" "Get down!"
"Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get down!"
Everybody – "Get down" "Get down!" "Get down" "Get down!"
"Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get down!"
[Verse 2: Nas]
Some niggas fuck their enemies in their ass when they catch 'em
Weird-ass niggas who dangerous, so don't test 'em
They make you disappear, this a year that I won't forget
Sold CD's, double Platinum, met mo' execs
Southern niggas, 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 their car, that shit amazed me
Put me onto heron blunts, sherm or somethin'
Took a puff, "What the fuck?!" I turned and punched 'em
Southern niggas 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 gangsters, we loungin', out in L.A
See a dude wrote my dog 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 thangs
He plugged me with a dame who was half-Mexicano
Gave the ass up, I'm a mack daddy Soprano
She passed me the indigo
But the imbecile, should've never tippy-toed
Thought my eyes were closed
Openin' the hotel room door 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' with you"
He responded, "Cool," but told me "Out here, this how motherfuckers—"
[Chorus: James Brown sample & Nas]
"Get down" "Get down!" "Get down" "Get down!"
"Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get down!"
Everybody – "Get down" "Get down!" "Get down" "Get down!"
"Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get" "Get down!"
[Outro: Salaam Remi]
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 really look at it
My folk against your folk, but we all kinfolk
Somebody got to make a change