What Up lyrics

by

J Dilla


{*scratched: "It's the new!!"*}

[Intro]
Yeah! Yeah, Busta Bust down, Flipmode now
I know what y'all feel like doin
Go 'head and crash your whip in the f*ckin wall
It's cool, n*ggas.. we gets busy

[Verse 1]
Fo' sho', spit rogue, get mo' bout to kick in the door
di*k sore, split whores 'til they sh*t on the floor
Clique more sick from when you use to see us before
sh*t, kill a n*gga quick, n*ggas know my rapport
Keep workers on the strip that be ready for war
Brick I flip a little quicker if they sh*t in the store
Rip, maybe 'til they drop, and they sh*t in they drawers
sh*t crazy when I pop, and I'm grippin the four
Thick b*tches in the spot, watch 'em strip for the sport
Spit vicious for the block, yeah we swingin a torch
Stick n*ggas for they sh*t, thank 'em for they support
Quick n*gga, better quit snitchin down at the court
Check track a little slick and try to go on my Forbes
Cause we stackin like we rich, and we holdin the fort
This time, we had to bring it, guess what we brought
The hottest sh*t to bang from L.A. to the streets of New York
[Hook]
All my people, get drunk, get high (what up!?)
Get money, get rich, get fly (what up!?)
Get stupid, get busy, get live (what up!?)
Jump all in your whip, turn the key and drive (what up!?)
Make a mill' yeah we gon' make about five (what up!?)
We speak the truth and we ain't talkin no jive (what up!?)
I'm speakin to the streets and everybody's widdit (what up!?)
Once again you know we only come to get it (what up!?)

[Verse 2]
Ha, I stay wicked now I'm back on the strip
Like I went on a vacation and I'm back from my trip
Nuff radio rotation like I'm sailin a ship
Or when the team circle the block, busy trailin my clique
Truck packed fulla n*ggas with the strap and the whip
Get the gat out of the stash, put it back on my hip
Gat butt you in the face, split and fatten your lip
Blood hit the floor louder than the clap when it drip
I credit your name with bullets, read the back of the script
My victim's initials engraved on the back of the clip
Chicks love the way we roll, how the movement is thick
So official like my name's on the back of your b*tch
Pay triple for the name on the back of the stitch
Name like the whole city now I'm changin the pitch
Kick back kinda crazy when I'm holdin the fifth
Think you nicer than the God, sh*t is only a myth
Grab ahold of the masses, I was born with a gift
n*ggas be runnin they trap, throw 'em over the cliff
Thinkin and drinkin the Guinness, busy holdin the spliff
Flippin and sh*ttin on n*ggas 'til we old and we stiff
I don't even drive whips, throw the sh*t on the lift
12 hours, one worker do the whole of the shift
I do the thing to make you open your mouth
And give you sh*t to bang the Midwest and the rest of the South
[Hook]
All my people, get drunk, get high (what up!?)
Get money, get rich, get fly (what up!?)
Get stupid, get busy, get live (what up!?)
Jump all in your whip, turn the key and drive (what up!?)
Make a mill' yeah we gon' make about five (what up!?)
We speak the truth and we ain't talkin no jive (what up!?)
I'm speakin to the streets and everybody's widdit (what up!?)
Once again you know we only come to get it (what up!?)
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