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get up get off - the prodigy lyrics

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you gotta get up
gotta get up
if you wanna get…

i hate people that ain’t movin’ their shoes
and i hate everybody that i see not feelin’ my groove
i like rhymes that be quick as we be takin’ the bar
but i hate everybody that don’t like electric guitars, and i
hate people that can’t a dose of they medicine – f-ck ‘em, we’re better‘n ‘em – they’s no one, do not compare ‘em, and i
twista spit the flow so hard it might show them the force
i’d like to see somebody talkin’ sh-t get turned up a corpse
only models with the ones that got the wickedest drawers, drink liquor and ballers love – i can kick it with ya’ll, but

hate phony–ss people, and i
hate having no droll, and i
hate bougey–ss clubs that don’t be havin’ no b-tches that bring it down to the floor, and i
hate when i can’t help somebody, and i
hate when i ain’t got dough, and i
hate if you ain’t feelin’ twista and prodigy rockin’ loose and partly losing control

you gotta get up
if you wanna get off

you gotta get up
gotta get up
if you wanna get…

hate phony–ss people, and i
hate having no droll, and i
hate bougey–ss clubs that don’t be havin’ no b-tches that bring it down to the floor, and i
hate when i can’t help somebody, and i
hate when i ain’t got dough, and i
hate if you ain’t feelin’ twista and prodigy rockin’ loose and partly losing control

you gotta get up
if you wanna get off

keep your eyes open just so that i can stop you from blinkin’
make you play russian roulette and try to see what you’re thinkin’
through the hole in your dome while i’m holding my own
get so cold in the zone, i’m destroying my clone
i can fill a f-ckin’ room up with torture and pain
blood of the lyrical dracula is coursing my veins
it’s the trilogy of terror, real m.c. from my era
then i spit some vocal agility that’ll scare ya, because i

hate y’all phony–ss people, and i
hate having no droll, and i
hate bougey–ss clubs that don’t be havin’ no b-tches that bring it down to the floor, and i
hate when i can’t help somebody, and i
hate when i ain’t got dough, and i
hate if you ain’t feelin’ twista and prodigy rockin’ loose and partly losing control

you gotta get up
if you wanna get off

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