Coolio Lyrics

Album: Gangsta's Paradise

Get Up Get Down Lyrics

Verse One: Malika 

Steppin up out the shadows I comes equipped to wreck 

Hold up just a sec Coolio I'm on deck (Malika) 

Yes the diction is on point 

Causin, friction when I flex up the jaw or hit the joint 

That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti 

Like the body cool, keep the scrap for the naughty 

Niggie trippin why you scheme so don't step up with no bullshit 

See that there it's clip for this stickup on the hip 

Peep the correct way to get your pimp on 

Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong 

Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her 

If I'm swingin for the knockout, best believe I'm fit to drop her 

Ninety-five's on pocket, representin I keep stompin 

Throw up my fists just like this when I'm mobbin 

Verse Two: Shorty 

I killed the last, killed the ass, with my ninety-five drive 

I'm deep like d-cell with my Crimson Tide, nigga 

Like Chaka Khan, I tell you something good 

I'm Hi-C like Spike Lee with a Tale From the Hood 

You need it, I'll feed it, baby check the size 

Have you Goin Down like Mary J. Blige 

When it's popping like this, you can't be a coward 

Shorty freaks fuckin beats like Adina Howard 

My squad, is hard, with players, and hustlers 

No toleration, for fakers and busters 

Fuckin with me with all honesty 

You get bombed rap songs coming constantly 

Bumpin G-15's, Westside scene 

Killin the competition, while making a fuckin green 

So ring, around the rosie, and mosey to the Rosie 

And I want you to know G 

Chorus: 

We bust and cuss and kick up dust 

Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us 

So what's the time? It's time to get paid 

Why you bust your rhyme? Cause I got skills 

We bust and cuss and kick up dust 

Don't none of y'all niggaz want to fuck with us 

So what's the time? It's time to get paid 

Why you bust your rhyme? Cause that's how I bail 

Verse Three: Leek Ratt (of 40 Thevz) 

Watch me swallow this nickel and shit five pennies 

I'm the loc'est of them all though the rat is kinda skinny 

How many linny and squidgy think they can see me? 

I'm from Compton where even in the summer niggaz wear beanies 

Bustin lyrics sharper than razor blades catch it from head to toe 

if you're shocked, then amazed, when you see me at my stage show 

For my stage show beat em up 

40 Thevz gettin busy rockin coast to coast 

Dogs the most rap the hoes then rocks em up 

Givin it up for hip-hop vicitims how should I drop em and then pop em 

for poppin like to get what I got, and I ain't got a whole lot of nuthin 

cuz I been ruffin and scuffin so give it up when I'm bustin or get to duckin 

cuz I ain't given em nuthin 

Fools can't get none, so fuck em! 

Verse Four: PS 

Let me rock the motherfuckin mic 

Smoke a whole stick of dynamite, then fight all night 

I got jabs like a welterweight champion 

The pocket-pincher purse-snatcher pistol-packin 

quick to get it crackin 

Went from jackin to rappin to runnin with a pack of mad men 

Pull a trick out my sleeve like Aladdin 

Some fool tried to play me for a punk I had to have him like 

lunch or dinner, he's just a beginner 

Fuckin with a winner, number one contender top dog 

Head nigga in charge runnin with a group of hogs 

40 Thevz, MAAD Circle, Cat, and Crowbar 

Best to put your daughterWack ass rappers get tossed upTrying to come in here with that garbageMy crew see the dopest and the hardest 

So clear the path or get your punk ass Bogart-ed 

Chorus 1/2 

Verse Five: Ras Kass 

I peep game and get recognized, biting on the hard liquor 

toothpick and beedy-dyin 

Bitch you got dealt, peeled your cap the other way 

like a reversible Louis-Vitton Gucci belt 

And ain't nothin crackin 

For them niggaz steppin up with the funk I'm packin Tinactin 

Cuz I be earnin stripes in tight bunches 

All the homies carry nines I carry rhymes with sucker punches 

What? Tootsie, my knees don't bend 

Just like that actor Hoffman I be Dustin off men often 

Jay-walking over your coffin with an eleven shot loss and 

jaw wrecked that Osten won't soften you're lost and 

see arson, to exterminate the flyest nigga like Orkin 

Stalkin lofts men to New York and in between 

so take caution, leave the flossin for dental hygeine 

Mental plus my gene equals nasty young bastard 

The raps be lung mastered takin vinyl virginity 

Coincidentally I run shit like Walter Payton 

Niggaz player hatin cause I spoke like a Dayton 

I hit the face like Ron Carter at the corner when 

C and B came strollin 

Blowin niggaz up like when Mookie's stupid ass got caught smokin 

Figure, your stigma is lack of enigma 

So bitch-ass niggaz better step, like the Delta Sigma Thetas 

Verse Six: Coolio 

We don't give a fuck, fools better duck 

39 deep in the back of Wino's truck 

Like robbin in the paint, fool think I ain't? 

Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm pullin rank 

I rev like a motor float ON like a boat to 

kick a style like Tical from here to North Dakota 

The ambassador of funk with amps in the trunk 

And when it's time to rock a mic I won't be no punk 

I bring death to the evil and power to the people 

My name ain't Steve Miller but I Fly Like an Eagle 

Don't play me for a chump, I get around like Gump 

And I, got more con in my verse than Chuck 

And you don't want no motherfuckin problems here 

Cuz I can round up a posse like Paul Revere 

Your whole crew'll get took out, turned out, shook out 

Burned up like a cookout, so fools better look out 

Verse Seven: WC 

Fresh out the penalty box 

Sportin a stockin cap, cut off dickies, and some high-top striped socks 

The freestyle finatic pyschosomatic back at it causin static 

with lyrics still as tight as a straight jacket 

The last in line but one of the first to get wit cha 

bringin more terror to MC's than a Michigan militia 

Click click boom, nigga fuck your crew 

It's the chanky hip-hopper, takin over pissin in your stage monitor 

socket you think that you can fuck with mine in your wildest dreams 

You best to wake up and apoligize 

Niggaz penetentiary yearn me cuz I, burn like Parker 

but anyway, half of y'all couldn't see me with a pair of Blu Blockers 

The lyrical night stalker stalkin at night in a pair of creased Khakis 

Chuck Taylors, my pistol grip tight 

Dub-C, that nigga from Westside MAAD Circle 

 Ay man! Ay ay. 

What's up Wino? 

 Uh like loc, it's like late, let's get the fuck up out of here 

Are we out? 

 Yeah yeah fuck it 

Fuck it, MAAD Circle bitch!