The Get Back
Who want to bet us that they can't fuck with us
Stack cheddar forever, live treacherous, all the etceteras
Until the death of us me and my confidantes, we shine
We make the ambiance you niggas just rhyme
You little niggas need guidance you barking up the wrong trees
Pissing on the wrong hydrants, on my hyphens
I grew up around violence, you grew up playing violins
In your hood silence, where I'm from sirens
They just killed this vibe, they just killed this vibe
There's something about killing shit that makes us feel alive
We feed off your energy, we see you on that Kenny G
Just tooting your own horn, do your thing my N I G
Whenever you (ven aqui) to that mighty NYC
We gon' check that name you claim, bring your [?] and I.D
We take it the wrong way, all gold everything
One gold watch, two gold chains, give me all those - everything
Y'all don't want to bump heads, (Ocho), Everlane
Them boys will leave you butt naked, the mall closed and everything
The (Streets Is Watching) asking if you gon' reply to them
Seems like I woke up sleeping giants - Eli and them
A major comeback up from my minor setback
They still don't know we living just thinking about the get back
The get back I crack a smile knowing God has a day for me
Until that day comes I slay these niggas faithfully
The get back I'm like Nino with the uzi back of the motorcycle heading
To get back at them Italians who killed Keisha at the wedding
I'm like dope boy looking for Ricky's killer - one last soldier
Niggas who turn they backs on me turn your punk ass over
Y'all smoked my cousin Harold, now I'm in the Camaro
Loving and Happiness playing, me and my dog with this double barrel
38, 40 belows, live or die motherfucker
I'm Pac [?] "Riverside Motherfucker!"
The get back everybody better get back, tell my niggas in the jet black
Until the seats let back on your jet back, if you're a gambling man you could bet that
It's a sure thing not just a New York thing or a rich or a poor thing
It's a lace your boots pull your drawstring who want to go to war thing
It's a who gon' protect your thing who really want it more thing
Putting legends in coffins and some bullet holes in the door thing
It's a nobody saw things, street cold not a law thing
It's kids that wasn't taught things, old ladies like poor thing
Poor thing and the get back is important
Poor thing for the dead homies we poor 'paign
Like what you say while it's cocked back to him
Guess what goes around comes around got back to him
Now these motherfuckers smoked your God damn cousin in front of you nigga!
Blew his head off in front of your face and you ain't gon' do shit?
You acting like a little bitch right now nigga!
Man fuck that I ain't letting that shit ride!
We gon' go in there and smoke all these motherfuckers I don't care who the fuck out there!
Goddamnit! Is you down nigga?
Stack cheddar forever, live treacherous, all the etceteras
Until the death of us me and my confidantes, we shine
We make the ambiance you niggas just rhyme
You little niggas need guidance you barking up the wrong trees
Pissing on the wrong hydrants, on my hyphens
I grew up around violence, you grew up playing violins
In your hood silence, where I'm from sirens
They just killed this vibe, they just killed this vibe
There's something about killing shit that makes us feel alive
We feed off your energy, we see you on that Kenny G
Just tooting your own horn, do your thing my N I G
Whenever you (ven aqui) to that mighty NYC
We gon' check that name you claim, bring your [?] and I.D
We take it the wrong way, all gold everything
One gold watch, two gold chains, give me all those - everything
Y'all don't want to bump heads, (Ocho), Everlane
Them boys will leave you butt naked, the mall closed and everything
The (Streets Is Watching) asking if you gon' reply to them
Seems like I woke up sleeping giants - Eli and them
A major comeback up from my minor setback
They still don't know we living just thinking about the get back
The get back I crack a smile knowing God has a day for me
Until that day comes I slay these niggas faithfully
The get back I'm like Nino with the uzi back of the motorcycle heading
To get back at them Italians who killed Keisha at the wedding
I'm like dope boy looking for Ricky's killer - one last soldier
Niggas who turn they backs on me turn your punk ass over
Y'all smoked my cousin Harold, now I'm in the Camaro
Loving and Happiness playing, me and my dog with this double barrel
38, 40 belows, live or die motherfucker
I'm Pac [?] "Riverside Motherfucker!"
The get back everybody better get back, tell my niggas in the jet black
Until the seats let back on your jet back, if you're a gambling man you could bet that
It's a sure thing not just a New York thing or a rich or a poor thing
It's a lace your boots pull your drawstring who want to go to war thing
It's a who gon' protect your thing who really want it more thing
Putting legends in coffins and some bullet holes in the door thing
It's a nobody saw things, street cold not a law thing
It's kids that wasn't taught things, old ladies like poor thing
Poor thing and the get back is important
Poor thing for the dead homies we poor 'paign
Like what you say while it's cocked back to him
Guess what goes around comes around got back to him
Now these motherfuckers smoked your God damn cousin in front of you nigga!
Blew his head off in front of your face and you ain't gon' do shit?
You acting like a little bitch right now nigga!
Man fuck that I ain't letting that shit ride!
We gon' go in there and smoke all these motherfuckers I don't care who the fuck out there!
Goddamnit! Is you down nigga?
Credits
Writer(s): John Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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