| Hands up in the air
|
| Ain’t no steppin' there
|
| We gon' pump it
|
| Lets all get down
|
| Feel it in your trunk
|
| Let your system bump
|
| Yo we gon' move now
|
| Lets all get down
|
| Hands up in the air
|
| Ain’t no steppin' there
|
| We gon' pump it
|
| Lets all get down
|
| Feel it in your trunk
|
| Let your system bump
|
| Yo we gon' end it
|
| Lets all get down
|
| Scramble for cheese, MC’s
|
| And actors with no fear factor
|
| Ill rap you the rapture
|
| Turnin' strawberries into Cleopatras
|
| Attach your brain
|
| With Words of love and pain
|
| Fuck above the rim, I’m above the game
|
| Getting hugs from dames
|
| When I don’t even know their name
|
| Just seen what flick they was in
|
| As the world and the DJ spins
|
| Hittin' Cranberry Blends
|
| Girls in the club with their friends
|
| Lookin' for men
|
| Dancing with each other
|
| And treat by the chance that they love us
|
| Brothas talkin' in my ear like they got tracks
|
| Sistas in my ear talkin' like they got black
|
| Movements for me to move with
|
| Bad breath mixed with music
|
| These good times so let me use it, yo yo
|
| Let the poppas pop and the breakers break
|
| The hustlas hustle and the shakers shake
|
| The aesthetic is ultramagnetic
|
| B-Boys sweat it, Off
|
| With their hats feathered, set it, Off
|
| Raw like footage, with no edit
|
| In the club, at the bar, Broke headed
|
| With my guy who got the block glocked and dreaded
|
| I rap, I’m expected to be cheddared
|
| This chick rockin' a fur like she want to pet it
|
| Better food, somebody should of fed it, the move
|
| Ghetto, get eclectic, mellow but yet festered
|
| Minds molested by music
|
| Good times defuse with buds smoking speakers
|
| Run nose thugs quote their favorite song
|
| Mind too black and too strong
|
| To song and dance
|
| We advance to where it don’t stop
|
| The pure hip hop… |