Lirik Lagu Get Me featuring Littles & Noyd - Mobb Deep
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(Get me) Uh-huh(They pretty) Uh-huh(Wit me) Uh-huh(It's crispy) Yeah!Whoo! Uh-huh, uh-huh, yo.
[Havoc]Y'all just blowin smoke, fan in the fireYour wife is gettin curious homie you better hide herKeep it gully baby boy, share thatEasy when you see me, I don't like to get stared atNiggaz only mad cause they asses can't rapSoup the cowards up, if you want, get your man clappedYeah - sealed signed delivered, anthraxYou got a thousand niggaz I'll do numbers with half thatCatch me whylin out with a mami in Club BlackEnough on the wheels make me feel like the tunnel packedYeah, if it's some'n I'm feelin you runnin thatAnd we don't let a thing slide baby, what's up with that?Talk on the jack like Feds, got the phone tappedHavoc make tracks, didn't know, just hold thatCareer ain't goin so well, I got thatSlide you some hot shit, nigga it's a wrap!
[Chorus: Havoc]See the cats in the whips wanna - get meBut I got the pounds and them .9's - they prettySee me on the streets, them gorillas they - wit meBills in the pockets, know them things is - crispyYeah, y'all niggaz pussy sonY'all not known for bustin them gunsSo for the .9 I got beef for daysY'all want it wit us don't get carried awayCall the coroner
[Littles]Yo, a closed mouth don't get fed, that's why I talk to himI'm hungry, niggaz is eatin fo' pounds, I walk through 'emEither you shook or your .9 sprayYou got a row of sixteen and a clip, one in the head around my wayFuck with my money you be shot the fuck upThe name Littles got the streets locked the fuck upDumped off the bridge, body mopped the fuck upwhen them Mobb Deep boys creep or pop the fuck upThere ain't a nigga that can cramp my styleFifteen get money, livin frozen outYou cowards softer than a bitch, get a baby wipe'Fore I show you what the .9 or three-eighty likeWant beef muh'fucker come and get meAll this rap in the booth, or whassup in the streetNot a nickel get sold in the park 'less I eatThink different the mac'll spin you like the G-Unit piece
[Chorus - first 1/2]
[Noyd]Aiyyo, hey heyLook I walk around with my pound in a glassPuffin my haze, missed with that dro and sprinkled some hashHow I roll? Why would you ask?Know I'm swingin my piece, pocket full of G's, gun in the stashI know y'all roll with the boys with the badgeThat's why when you kick that gangsta rap, homie I just laughFrom the ave, where snitches get blastThey say - no Noyd, you won't blow makin songs like thatI say - homie you sell your soul to glitter, it don't lastI don't get no bigger, I'ma keep it realer to deathFuck is a check if you ain't bustin a tecNigga we countin the scrilla with the gun on the deckCountin the gang that snaps, think how many straps and vestsWe flash the pound around and knuckle down the restWe hate the E-mails and the phones, the spots get blownIt's +Deep+, we can't even speak in certain rooms
[Chorus]
[Prodigy]Nope, you get outta here, fuck outta here.
I'm tellin you it's somethin 'bout them Mobb Deep boys, they no jokeThey blood-thirsty for that rap music yoIt's not a song, it's a goddamn bomb fittin to blowThey not a group, they a muh'fuckin gang for sho'More than a gang, we more like a troop and ohLet's not forget to mention our jewels is whoaAll our guns get blown, all my fools is locE'rytime we drop a new one the streets gon' gostraight berserk, cause we don't play with that thereThey know it's safe to spend they money over hereE'rytime they cop from somebody else, the shit wackThat shit there is doo-doo, the shit here is crackGet 'em all higher than Scotty could ever beam 'emThey know it's safe to spend they dough over hereFuck that new shit, they high wear off too fastThem niggaz got garbage, this is that smack!
[Chorus]
[Havoc]Y'all just blowin smoke, fan in the fireYour wife is gettin curious homie you better hide herKeep it gully baby boy, share thatEasy when you see me, I don't like to get stared atNiggaz only mad cause they asses can't rapSoup the cowards up, if you want, get your man clappedYeah - sealed signed delivered, anthraxYou got a thousand niggaz I'll do numbers with half thatCatch me whylin out with a mami in Club BlackEnough on the wheels make me feel like the tunnel packedYeah, if it's some'n I'm feelin you runnin thatAnd we don't let a thing slide baby, what's up with that?Talk on the jack like Feds, got the phone tappedHavoc make tracks, didn't know, just hold thatCareer ain't goin so well, I got thatSlide you some hot shit, nigga it's a wrap!
[Chorus: Havoc]See the cats in the whips wanna - get meBut I got the pounds and them .9's - they prettySee me on the streets, them gorillas they - wit meBills in the pockets, know them things is - crispyYeah, y'all niggaz pussy sonY'all not known for bustin them gunsSo for the .9 I got beef for daysY'all want it wit us don't get carried awayCall the coroner
[Littles]Yo, a closed mouth don't get fed, that's why I talk to himI'm hungry, niggaz is eatin fo' pounds, I walk through 'emEither you shook or your .9 sprayYou got a row of sixteen and a clip, one in the head around my wayFuck with my money you be shot the fuck upThe name Littles got the streets locked the fuck upDumped off the bridge, body mopped the fuck upwhen them Mobb Deep boys creep or pop the fuck upThere ain't a nigga that can cramp my styleFifteen get money, livin frozen outYou cowards softer than a bitch, get a baby wipe'Fore I show you what the .9 or three-eighty likeWant beef muh'fucker come and get meAll this rap in the booth, or whassup in the streetNot a nickel get sold in the park 'less I eatThink different the mac'll spin you like the G-Unit piece
[Chorus - first 1/2]
[Noyd]Aiyyo, hey heyLook I walk around with my pound in a glassPuffin my haze, missed with that dro and sprinkled some hashHow I roll? Why would you ask?Know I'm swingin my piece, pocket full of G's, gun in the stashI know y'all roll with the boys with the badgeThat's why when you kick that gangsta rap, homie I just laughFrom the ave, where snitches get blastThey say - no Noyd, you won't blow makin songs like thatI say - homie you sell your soul to glitter, it don't lastI don't get no bigger, I'ma keep it realer to deathFuck is a check if you ain't bustin a tecNigga we countin the scrilla with the gun on the deckCountin the gang that snaps, think how many straps and vestsWe flash the pound around and knuckle down the restWe hate the E-mails and the phones, the spots get blownIt's +Deep+, we can't even speak in certain rooms
[Chorus]
[Prodigy]Nope, you get outta here, fuck outta here.
I'm tellin you it's somethin 'bout them Mobb Deep boys, they no jokeThey blood-thirsty for that rap music yoIt's not a song, it's a goddamn bomb fittin to blowThey not a group, they a muh'fuckin gang for sho'More than a gang, we more like a troop and ohLet's not forget to mention our jewels is whoaAll our guns get blown, all my fools is locE'rytime we drop a new one the streets gon' gostraight berserk, cause we don't play with that thereThey know it's safe to spend they money over hereE'rytime they cop from somebody else, the shit wackThat shit there is doo-doo, the shit here is crackGet 'em all higher than Scotty could ever beam 'emThey know it's safe to spend they dough over hereFuck that new shit, they high wear off too fastThem niggaz got garbage, this is that smack!
[Chorus]
