Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stand Up , by - Ghostface Killah. Release date: 24.07.2011
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stand Up , by - Ghostface Killah. Stand Up |
| Tune my voice out, tune my mic out |
| Tune my voice out, tune my mic out |
| Yo, this is how we rock |
| This is how we rock |
| This is how we rock, rock |
| Hey you, blow your whistle |
| Yeah, we in the joint yo |
| We in the joint |
| Hey yo, hey, yeah, scream |
| Hey now, I want all you brothers and sisters to stand up |
| (Ah shit!) |
| I want everyone to stand up and be counted tonight |
| (Stand up, yeah) |
| Brothers and sisters, if you know you’ve got your thing together |
| (Put your motherfuckin' hand in the air) |
| I want you to stand on up! |
| Now I got something to tell ya |
| (Swing it from left to right) |
| I’ll tell you, now that I think about it |
| (Yeah) |
| And now I wanna tell ya how to get your thing together |
| (Play with this, you can’t play with this) |
| Come on now, get a groove going |
| (Uh) |
| Yeah |
| Hey you, blow your whistle |
| Yo, yo, yo |
| Yo tony, what up? |
| Heard your dick was good |
| You should know, yo I fucked you on the side of my hood |
| Never that dog |
| From where you can never hit it |
| Throw a razor in my mouth on the low |
| And suck ya dick wit' it |
| The world famous, priceless, still stainless dick |
| Pray over this, scoped ya love, nameless |
| Heavyweight dick in ya jaw |
| Good lickin' fom ya lips, now baby girl throw the song |
| Yo, yo, yo |
| Aye yo Tony, you phoney |
| We both signed to Sony |
| But for half ya pub, ride that dick like a Pony, what |
| Yeah, what, put your money on my dick |
| Girls, all eyes on my dick |
| Yo, yo, yo |
| Cats fatigued out, thinkin' they armies |
| My crew arms me with beats, how we swarm bee? |
| Who bang?, be’More and Wu Tang, new thang |
| Mad at how we do thangs, RZA cop me two fangs |
| Official, now I bite through gristle |
| Gold teeth style in from Philly to Stanton Island |
| While in the meantime, spit mean lines |
| Fuck clean rhymes, like mine’s grimmy |
| Like my niggas be |
| Picture me, coming off soft |
| Y’all just cough up shit, I swallow rhymes |
| Makin' bitches swallow 9's, re-define |
| This rap shit, make my shit a classic |
| Like Bethoven, stay posin' |
| For the camera, stamina |
| Like a crackhead, and crackheads are amateurs |
| You try me, no in-between like why to Z |
| Pick brains like labotomies |
| Still thoughts to charts of Billboard’s |
| Throw pour ill spores, leave niggsa stiff like still-born's |
| I want all you brothers and sisters to stand up |
| (What, what, what) |
| I want everybody to stand up and be counted tonight |
| (Stand up baby, stand up baby) |
| Brothers and sisters, if you know you’ve got your thing together |
| I want you to stand on up! |
| (Stand up yo) |
| Now I got something to tell ya |
| I’ll tell you, now that I think about it |
| (Yeah, what, what, what) |
| And now I wanna tell ya how to get your thing together |
| I’m like Spider-Man's fifth brother up in the Clan |
| Drop like crap’s that’s scattered all up in ya van |
| Skelly-man crook, character star |
| In Donna Boines book |
| MG--M, Heaven and Hell, sat with the cook |
| With the big spice bone, red hair’s is killin' me |
| Knotted up, twisted and green |
| Seen them crystal’s in that rap yo |
| And get Barear |
| Bear hug and five hundred ounce of that Staision |
| Wild man, Sarah |
| Rush after hours, Alpha in the beds |
| Caked hands like Dai Smith, rap haggler with a fade |
| Magillia, Charli Baltimore with Hazel driftin' withdrawels |
| Wind Face start with the Killah |
| Stood still, a whole river chill |
| Looked up and got dogged, that’s when RZA started to build |
| Hey yeah! |
| I want all you brothers and sisters to stand up |
| Hey yeah! |
| I want all you brothers and sisters to stand up |
| Hey you, blow your whistle |
| What, what, what, what! |
| Aye yo, you craze me, turtleneck nigga rockin' Pasley |
| Shots crazily, steady blazin' where the spaids be |
| Teams like Starsky and Hutch, you put deluxe truck |
| Ya bankrupt, 52's Knox, I heard you Ku Klux, damn |
| Tear it out the van, sweat it with a tan |
| With get like Remo spray can, suga the ram |
| Fuck a cocktail, get my balls licked in Hell |
| Read his Igloo Tales, hell all the dogs with broken tails |
| Salt range, short order tab |
| Ironman, bubble bath, nuclear, split the atom in half |
| Meet dime O’s, fifth brother bug inside 8 pole |
| Change though, crush the birds inside the strip pose |
| Rap Conspiracy, hold songs for ransom |
| Lancin' in Ghostmode, coke mixed with Branson |
| Sheisty, tree’s soaked in half-ki's |
| Sabotage N.Y. with snipe’s and 79's |
| Channel 9's scene street team made news with who’s |
| Charli, every 16 bars be |
| Sickening, peep the scription |
| Rhyme vixen |
| Keep the clips in tact, watch ya back |
| Ain’t done yet, 8-Spunett |
| Poison webbers |
| Spider-Woman, two legged, how we did it |
| What! |
| Come on and get a groove goin'! |
| Hey you, blow your whistle |
| Hey you, blow your whistle |
| Now clap your hands and say yeah |
| Yeah |
| Now let me count it off |
| Hey |
| Hey, hey, hey yeah! |
| I want all you brothers and sisters to stand up |