Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Down Wit Us, artist - Redman.
Date of issue: 04.08.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Down Wit Us |
Ha ha, yo, yo |
My man Keith Murray, is down wit us |
My nigga Erick Sermon, is down wit us |
My man Lil' Jamal, is down wit us |
My Def Squad click, is down wit us |
The Pack Pistol Posse is down wit us yo |
My L.O.D. |
click, is down wit us |
We’re number one! |
Ha ha ha, ha ha, yo yo, yo well yo |
It’s the Red Moolie, yellin for the villain in the movie |
I’m like Kentucky, I pack a biscuit and a two-piece |
Ya nod thorough, blows like the tri-borough |
I die thorough with a metal on my chest sayin Def |
Check out the rhythm that I cook up |
You too scared to look up, you’re merkin |
I Set it Off like La in that big-ass Suburban *errrr* |
Bumrush your villa then I’m closin all the curtains, LIGHTS OUT |
Who’s next to get stomped? |
I smash hardcore from Jerz |
To the South South Bronx, the bizarre rap non-superstar |
Of course, my Actions Affirmative like Nas Escobar |
Flip a quarter, heads or tails you’re gettin slaughtered |
I blow the S-L boy out of order |
My mental disorder is pure water |
I hit your wifey doggystyle in the Land |
While the CD program’s on 'Whatever Man' |
My peoples up in Jersey, is down wit us, uhh |
My peoples locked down, down wit us, uhh |
My peoples in New York, is down wit us |
The housing projects, is down wit us |
My people who be hustlin is down wit us |
Cause makin funky music is a must |
I’m number one! |
Ha haa! |
Check it check check check here we go huh huh |
Aiyyo, throw yo' hands up in the motherfuckin air |
And wave em, until y’all cash flows hit the pavement |
Fuck the B-X, I roll on fours like G-S |
Signed truly yours, Funk Doctor Spock, P. S |
Rumble in the Jungle, I bumped into Fugees |
On the humble, on the one-deuce, my bundles |
Be raw diggy, surprise you like you saw titties |
On that, milk chick, watch me damage your acoustics |
The Muddy Waters be blowin your tape recorders |
Pull out the four niggas steppin like they on a Nord (ic) |
Track, cool out black got no time for scratch |
You wanna battle, here’s a lyric with a bomb attached *pssst* |
These your peoples, you better call em back before I beat through |
His windpipe, with the cordless mic and the cerebral |
HAHH, look up in the motharfuckin sky, it’s a |
Widow, pushin a fifteen zero zero |
With tinted windows, so it’s hard to look through |
Chickenhead shotgun, pumpin Erykah Badu |
Don’t snooze, you’ll be like damn is it the shoes? |
The way I maneuv I could slip a uz in school |
I been a raw dog since I brought me an eighth |
And Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down like I’m Puffy and Mase |
Ha hah, ha ha ha! |
Ha ha, aiyyo, aiyyo |
Fox Boogie Brown, is down wit us |
My nigga Meth-Tical, is down wit us |
Yo, Thuggish Ruggish Flesh, is down wit us, yo |
Yo, my homie Richie Rich, is down wit us, yo |
That nigga LL Cool, is down wit us, yo |
My dog Warren G, is down wit us |
We’re number one! |
Ha hah, ha hah, ya-ha-ha, yo yo |
Trigger the Gambler, down wit us, yo |
My peeps West coast, is down wit us, yo |
My peeps who pack toast, is down wit us yo |
Atlanta, G-A, is down wit us yo |
My peeps in Virginia, is down wit us yo |
North Carolina, is down wit us yo |
My peeps in D.C., is down wit us yo |
My peeps in… |