| Is y’all ready to go up in here?
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| Aiight, pull the black mask down
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| We bout to rush the door
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| (Ah shit, hide your jewelry)
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| I told y’all we was coming
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| Yo everybody watch out
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| Word up
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| Get it up, huh
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| The ice on ya wrist player pick it up, huh
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| My killers in the cut coast stick em up, huh
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| Ladies grab your shirts and lift em up, huh
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| Lemme see your ass baby back it up, huh
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| My soldiers on the front line actin up, huh
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| Lemme see your guns, what throw em up, huh
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| Lemme see your guns, what throw em up, huh
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| Lemme see your guns, what throw em up, huh
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| Yo Sticky Fingaz, word up
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| I told y’all niggas
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| Yo come on
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| Hennesied up, play the cut lighting it up
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| Rag on my head, eyes lookin' half way dead
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| Brought my thugs to the club, straight off the street
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| I’m iceburg to my feet about a third of the week
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| Relax baby don’t spazz cuz he touched your ass
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| I ain’t say shit when your friend touched my dick
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| I see Brooklyn schemin', we all in the spot
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| But that’s hip hop, we rap niggas from off the block
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| Is it me or is it gettin' hot in here
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| I think somebody 'bout to get shot in here
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| The nine mill guarenteed to clear the spot in here
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| And we ain’t get searched kid, we got Glocks in here
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| Someone bring me to the ho suckin' cocks in here
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| I think they trying to shut it down, I seen cops in here
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| I’m the hottest shit Universal got this year
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| And all my niggas rockin' rocks in here, come on
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| Black Trash
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| Ayo kick that old real shit
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| That Queens shit
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| Firemarshall said it’s too packed, nigga fuck the law
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| And the guest list, niggas bout to rush the door
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| Got cats online in ties and suits
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| We come through VIP button flies and boots
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| Everybody gettin' comped, I ain’t paying no admission
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| Stick Fingaz, I can’t even pay attention
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| Love the freaks that tweek and be liftin' it up
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| Love the freaks that creep and be giving it up
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| I got twelve inches, I’m well hung
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| Nine on my dick and three on my tongue
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| My manager, the bitch name is Helen Wate
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| Need a free show? |
| Nigga go to Hell and wait
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| And if God only helped those who help themselves
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| When I see something, I want em, I help myself
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| So unless you and me come to an understanding
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| You gon' be under, and I’ma be standing
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| Word up
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| We takin' all y’all money
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| We takin' all y’all bitches
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| What y’all thought it was
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| I’m so hot to death
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| I’ll probably get shot to death
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| Fuck who the cops arrest
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| My killers is rough, shoot up the club like Puff
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| Niggas’ll duck, chains tucked, Timbs get scuffed
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| I pull a four-four from out of the seat
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| Up out it and beat
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| Picture me not riding with heat
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| Jump out of the Jeep
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| Clear a nigga out of the street
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| Nobody can creep
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| Thirty deep nigga, I’m out of your reach
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| Ain’t nothing but killers boasting next to me
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| I’m prejuduce, I hate every color except for green
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| In the club, that’s where my niggas jewelry shop
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| When the hammer cock, we don’t care who we box
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| So why you come to the club, what you livin' it up
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| Why you fuckin' with that chicken, was she givin' it up
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| Why you even cop jewels, what you can’t get stuck
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| Why you never say when, you ain’t had enough
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| (They scheming on my chain son)
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| (Damn you don’t know son? Yo son look man n****z walking
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| Over there son, yo what up son) You know what the f**k
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| It’s is, n***a, give me that chain the f**k you thinking?
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| *shots fired, people screaming and yelling*
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| Let’s go
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| Get it up |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Get It Up, artist - Sticky Fingaz. Album song Black Trash: The Autobiography of Kirk Jones, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп