Lyrics The Art of Getting Jumped - De La Soul

The Art of Getting Jumped

.. on my way, to the disco\nYou know the club, Maseo was rockin rub that night\nMidnight to four, name at the door\nbut the whole crew I can get in as well\nSo I got on my cell, called my nigga C. Smith\nLet this be a jam that we need not miss\n«Yeah I’m already en route,"no doubt\nMight even jump up on the mic\nto make sure that this party’s turned out\nAnd we some punctual types, on time, look for the line\nto stand we find girls screamin the blues\nMiscellaneous shoes everywhere\n«Yo Mase, what happened here?»\n(«Go Brooklyn!») Yo Brooklyn, y’all know the rules\nBump ?? people and out come the tools\nAin’t been a fair fight since the creation of crews\nand that’s why them dudes hearts all pumped\nDone closed the club down,\ncause one of they niggaz got jumped\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\nUh-huh, you heard the hook\nNo matter you Braveheart or shook\nYou can catch a bottle from the right, tap to the left\nKicks to the mids relievin you of breath\nI seen it done sloppy, seen it organized\nSome saw it comin and for others it was SURPRISE\nCatch a swollen eye and blood loss, courtesy of the\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\nYo! When they put the contracts out, bats and chairs included\nChicks can get into it — 'specially pretty broads\nMy New York City dawgs seem to master the art\nWhen you hear the («WHOO!») that’s when the bullshit’ll start\nIt only takes a second less you got on ice\nJust for wearin your chain in they club, they’ll beat you twice\nServed with fried rice, you get a can of whoop ass\nMy only advice is don’t fall and book ass\nFor the nigga who slip, don’t fall in a position\nwhere your lip’ll catch a hickie (girl they’ll fuck your mascara)\nShoot, go and ask Tara, just for havin good hair\nman they left her ass cute, pulled it dead out the roots (ARRRGH!!)\nIt’s never one or two of 'em, they headin out in troops\nTimbos, hoodies loose over jumpsuits\nWaitin for the first vic to disrespect\nCatch a double-dutch rope around your neck in the midst of the\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\nIt’s schematically plotted out to break hearts and bodies\nand ya best believe we came to party\nDon’t cause trouble but still can find double the crew\nagainst you and your peeps and leap-like-frogs on ya\nfor reasons like — not in the right part of town\nactin like you wore a crown\nSome occasions long and mean to earn the right\nto throw signs wearin only one color scheme\nAnd bein positive is no exclusion\nThat’s an illusion — you can still catch contusions\nfor flossin your hard-earned shine\nI’m talkin games ?? ?? the longest\nthen it’s some other niggaz time\nYou’ll get beat out of your mind just for rage\nShit my black ass almost got pulled off stage\nJust for holdin it down on the mic, you could be talkin,\n«Black people unite,"and still catch a lump from the\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\n** Jump, jump, jump to it! **\nYo, it’s this joint, called the art of getting jumped\nWe had to put this one on the album y’know?\nYeah — this is dedicated\nto them punk motherfuckers out in Germany\nThat Turkish gang that jumped me up in the fuckin club\nTried to knock me senseless\nThey just couldn’t get me though\nThat’s why I second round outside on 'em\nPull out some fuckin guns — punk bastards\nand that’s why my ass was hidin under the bridge (HAHAHAHA)