Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Get Up, artist - The Coup. Album song Party Music, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.01.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Epitaph
Song language: English
Get Up |
Dead Prez, The Coup |
People Army, where the G’s at? |
C’mon… Fuck the police |
Ay why’all ready for this shit for why’all trunk? |
Why’all ready to get this bitch crunk? |
You got to get up right now |
Turn the system upside down |
Your 'sposed to be fed up right now |
Turn the system upside down |
Get up! |
Honestly, I’m against this government |
I ain’t gotta cover it up, that’s what I meant |
Sick of payin bills and I’m sick of payin rent |
Seem like I work all the time but don’t know where the money went |
And the funny shit is we supposed to like this shit |
But all why’all politicians can bite this dick |
It’s a war goin on, the ghetto is a cage |
They only give you two choices; |
be a rebel or a slave |
(So what you do?) So I rebel |
Like a ulcer in the belly of the beast stayin true to it |
Since my home street days in the blue Buick |
Niggas been fightin so long seem like I’m used to it |
Now what why’all know 'bout how The Coup do it |
Truth fluid, Boots put the funk to it, ain’t nothin to it |
This is for the G’s all the way to the bay |
For 'Frisco to Oakland all over L.A., ya gotta get up |
Now uhh, this fella, spits yella, never been a snitch teller |
One pace up from my homies ditch dweller |
Yellin «Fuck 'em Rocafella» my shit bump in acapella |
My lyrical qoutes are nervous notes to bank tellers |
When we call it off, we haulin off, Molotov’s and bricks |
Mr. Bailiff you could put that in the transcripts |
Hope your motherfuckin paddy wagon van flips |
Some saw it off, I prefer hand-grips |
Qoute us, you know we’re stronger than a 3-day no-tice |
Pay aquit, It’s more of us than lies your mayor spit |
I’m on some «Ma hate the game but love the player» shit |
Is you a «have» or you a «have not»? |
When you run out of bullets grab rocks |
'cause the prison don’t slam locks |
It don’t open when your fam knocks, 'less you rich and have stocks |
Fight the power like a motherfuckin Zulu |
It’s The Coup plus Kanume and Mutulu |
So raise your hands in the air like your born again |
But make a fist for the struggle we was born to win |
When I hear the woop-woop, I be duckin them hoes |
I can smell a pig comin, so I stay on my toes |
On the low from po-po, so fuck the Ho-lice |
'cause peace to me is loaded under my seat |
And I know power respect that, so 'serve and protect' that |
I’m young, black, and just don’t give a fuck — try me |
Grillin you right back, you better drive by me |
We the People Army is known to get rowdy |
And even if you a friend of the blue |
You can get it too, snitchin is never forgettable |
This Hell we livin is never forgivable |
It come down to DP and The Coup |
Remember Huey, Bobby Hutton, George, Fred and them |
Fuck the po-po, local, state, fed and them |
You better choose your side, Crip — Blood — 415 |
It’s one team, get up and let’s ride! |