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Lyrics

Get down, get down, get down, get down

(Get down) I see everybody rockin' the same old style
And everyone's sportin' the same profile
And all of y'all wearin' the same name brands
I hear everybody jackin' these played out jams
I won't reach for no gun, punk, I use my hands
I rock mikes and roll bikes, across foreign lands
I made my bones out in zones where the twilight be
And every time I touch a mic, it's Fright Night Part Three

Lyrics continue below...

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For every MC that wanna test and try
In your custom-made wears thinkin' you too fly
Makin' up in gold chains what you're lackin' for brains
It's time to call your ma, Duke
Scoop up your remains and finally lay to rest all the shit you stressed
Of boastin' and braggin' about the toes you taggin'
I'm knock-knock-knockin' on Heaven's door
While every rapper that you simmed is pimped like a whore

You see, your talk is eighteen, three quarters past four
When your doctor slaps my ass, hear the lion roar
The record sales soared and the world got toured
You say, "what happened to my band?"
I say, "I just got bored"
Now they call me Whitey Ford and I say, "praise the Lord"
Find me breakin' up your crews, catch me singin' the blues
Strummin' and pickin' like I'm BB King
It's Abdul Rakim, watch me do my thing

Get down
Down down, you go
Get down
Down down, so low (so low)
Get down
Down down, till you hit the floor
Get down
Keep fallin' down, till you can't get down no more
Get down, get down, get down, get down

You go point blank range, with the scope he's knockin'
The Psycho might change, but there ain't no stoppin'
The moon's on the rise when the sun start droppin'
And y'all need to quit the bullshit you poppin'
'Cause I've been hip hoppin' since BDP, rock the P it's free

It's Abdul Rakim and when referring to me
You best respect the name, make a quick double take
And double check your game, 'cause you about to get dissed
I'm checkin' my list, when I check it over twice
It's like rollin' the dice
I hit four-five-six, I'm all up in your mix
I rock good from Hollywood to the City of Bricks

And all these fake cats scream they're keepin' it real
While you're makin' your deal, we'll be breakin' the seal
You be breakin' your vows like people worshippin' cows
And then I hit ya with the who's, what's, where's and how's
Like Vinny Barbarino, Matt Gachino
I'm with my man Rino
With the Brooklyn Lordz crashin' the boards with my soul in a hole
I take it back to the future from the days of old

I'm too cold to hold, too hot not to burn ya
Don't stick your nose in business that don't concern ya
Might have to trip and flip like Ike Turner
You too old for schoolin', boy, when I'm gonna learn ya

Get down
Down down, you go
Get down
Down down, so low (so low)
Get down
Down down, till you hit the floor
Get down
Keep fallin' down, till you can't get down no more
Get down, get down, get down, get down

Get down, get down, get down, get down
Get down, get down, get down, get down
Get down, get down, get down, get down
Get down

Writer(s): Erik Schrody

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