Come Get It [Street] - DJ Hurricane, Rah Digga, RAMPAGE

Land-Lord, up in the house *COME GET IT*

Rah Digga, up in the house *COME GET IT*

Rampage, up in the house *COME GET IT*

What?

Baby come get it (Rah: What? Nigga come get it)

Chorus: Lord Have Mercy, Rah Digga

L: Turn the heat up

Cause we about to creep up *COME GET IT*

L: It’s off the meter

Plus we tear the street up *COME GET IT*

R: Ladies G’d up, what?

Don’t smoke the weed up *COME GET IT*

L: What?

Baby come get it (Rah: What? Nigga come get it)

Check it, I come in sweeter than La Femme Nikita

Be all up in your hood like I’m a C&C two liter

The little honey that be doin her she thing

On some Mya shit, like «It's All About Me» see?

I bleed things, blunt slicer on my keyrings

Bra top, lots of G-strings, havin weed dreams

I’d be Queen if this the 1900's

Cause niggas gon get it, and E’RYBODY want it

I’m totin bags, eyes redder than a photo lab

The spins on your single, won’t even top my promo ad

Hard drops quicker than jackers at the car lots

Couldn’t get no harder if you went to School of Hard Knocks

The grimy bitch, sometime be punchliney bitch

So don’t make me go there!

(*starts singing to «The P is Free"*)

Because the groupies are free, but the rhymes cost money.

OH YEAH!

All my Flipmode niggas just bounce to this

All my Rampage niggas just bounce to this

All my Hurricane niggas just bounce to this

All my niggas if you with me just, bounce with this

Okay, this is how it goes, pimpin all you, hoes

Catch em outside the shows, time to get the dough

Up in the studio, smokin the hydro

Writin the hot shit, you waitin for me to go

Threw on the Ram' bounce, just shakin yo' ass yo

Bump this in your Lex Coupe or your Expo'

Flipmode Squad, we the ones in them videos

Catch us with the fly shit, but you don’t hear me doe

Rampage, professional, just move your feet

We bout to make you do the jerk, get out your seats

Seven days a week and we the Squad that don’t sleep

Catch me in the street I’m on the midnight creep, so what?

I walk the path, that Allah made, +Smooth+, like Sade

Got pickup trucks -- high-beam with the fog rays

International capital, checks cashed in full

Damage your hood, natural, spend grands for goods

Traditional niggas know -- scream on these players like

DJ call in some mo', invincible pretty flow

Grammar God, swing like gold from Panama

Twenty-four carat charms, with smooth cuts like Sarah Vaughn

Here we go, here we go -- attitude

Spit the vocals hotter than soul food from Baton Rouge

Come, sharp-tongued like Malcolm, on any album

Some got chrome like Sly Stone, what you about son?

Here it is, here it is -- handcraft the raw

Who the boss?

Human torch any Fantastic Four

Player, I be a point guard, controllin things

In the 4th quarter, it’s all water like Poland Spring

DJ Hurricane in the place baby c’mon

Flip--mode, up in the spot baby c’mon

Ram--page, up in the place baby c’mon

Rah, Digga up in the house baby c’mon

Lord Have Mercy in the place baby c’mon

Busta Rhymes is in the house baby c’mon

Whylin out, for the night yeah c’mon

Hollis crew, represent baby c’mon

DJ Hurricane represent baby c’mon

All the ladies c’mon, shake it baby c’mon

All the females c’mon, shake it baby c’mon.