Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song C'Mon wit da Git Down, artist - Artifacts. Album song Between A Rock And A Hard Place, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.10.1994
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Big Beat, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
C'Mon wit da Git Down |
Where kids get wreck and, the beat’s bound to pound |
We’re strollin through the industry B, see we gotta be the next shit that kicks, cause brothers ain’t got it In this rap shit, ain’t no time for the dilly-dally |
pally throw a match in the Gasoline Alley |
Blew up mad spots, kids were jealous for the props |
See the shit never stops Hobbes, just lookin for my dillz-knot |
Styles we make, never fake, broke breaks in every crate |
Old freestyles and dirty ass copied-over tapes |
Notified that, the Artifacts never slack |
While crews is on stage wack, we just play the back |
Now, the flip tripper ripper slits ya wit da mixture |
All crews, who never paid dues, watch it 'fore I get ya Cause nowadays, it’s da ways, of the underground |
but they’re wack now, so c’mon wit da git down |
Verse Two: Tame One |
You know the stacks, if not, then ask some niggaz who heard of me The half on the Artifacts of Jersey |
Cause brothers be buggin not givin love to the nuccas |
Sayin fuck us, cause we be shinin brighter than the suckers |
Shootin me prison nobody listens to your dissin |
Cause yo my shit’s legit and as a lyricist I’m hittin |
the high note, so why don’t, I smile when I take pictures |
Cause now that I rock I got more niggaz on my jock than bitches |
I just wanna do my jams with fams and slam into some hypeness |
But biters and backstabbin rappers don’t even like us But props due, peep The Source RapPages and the Billboard |
And read about the tours while you be flappin your jaws |
I freak techniques, cause talk is cheaper than beepers from Broad Street |
Punks talk junk, Tame and the Sensai leave em all beat |
So peep how deep my technique freaks and how my shit sounds |
C’mon wit da c’mon, git down wit da git down |
Verse Three: MC El, Tame One |
Hold up, you rap sucker duck, buck, the track’s rough enough |
to prove a point, that the niggaz is the joint |
Magazines where we’re seen, now pop the tape in your deck |
I got the Heavy Ammunition cuz I’m Flexi Wit Da Tech |
Niggaz, can’t believe the Artifacts acheive |
Got, tricks up my sleeve so bow down on your knees |
Yo, we ain’t got the same lame, ordinary plain game |
Put to shame any crew who wants to feel the flame |
So bring submission to the rap recognition |
My right hand is itchin from the shit that I’m scriptin |
So pass the baton, to the next runner up, Tame |
I give a pound so, c’mon wit da git down |
Aiyyo, word to my grandma’s tampons, I drop bombs, but since |
our demo tracks had gaps some said my fat raps was half-assed |
Watchin others rock and clock we shocked em like a robot |
with our props, so now the Notty Head Niggaz got more knots yo My pockets are lumpy chump, my drunk style is trunky dunk |
My disc in crisp, put funk in funk like Humpty Hump |
Cuz I’m comin from the underground I’m down wit da git down |
MC’s who used to diss us, get pissed cause they ain’t shit now |
The Artifacts, represent on every stage we step on The days of gettin slept, are dead because we keep on peepin these weak MC’s, who cheese with their bologny |
Cause they’re phony as fuck, and couldn’t pull shit off a tow truck |
So yo bro, now you know my flow so go and sit down |
or c’mon wit da c’mon, git down wit da git down |