Get Off The Ground

[Verse 1: Termanology] Termanology, so uh, aye yo I Send my condolences to any rapper holding the crown I'mma blow his wig off his body and roast some piff I'm with my dudes Blickers smooth when I'm with the goons It's a fool run any rapper that wanna diss the crew I'm with the Switzerland wolves we bout to spit some jewels Put a MC in intensive care and flare him with the tools I'm the hardest spitter and I got the heart to kill you I put your squad up in the grave then I party with you You not soldiers you stock brokers, the Glock's smoking I'm Pac, Hova, Nas I'mma start rock and rolling I'm Michelangelo eating you like a cannibal Greeting you with my hammer-lo Deepest flow I'm mechanical Mandible like Canibus Render these rappers like amateurs Panicking what you should be, my uzi weighing a ton or two I got determination, that's right the term is waiting To turn your safe into my personal bank and burn your paper The MC slaughterer, pardon us we make horror flicks We chopping bodies like calamari, you pounds of fish On a scale lucky lefty Sonnie turn your vessy messy It's Termanology rock with me I be repping ST [Hook x2: Lil' Fame] If you don't want to get buried alive or get tossed in the grave You better get off the ground, get off the ground From New York, we do it our way You better get off the ground, get off the ground [Verse 2: Sean Price] Yo you can't rap, understand fam you can't rap Overhand blam, you got slapped Now get off the ground, pull my dick off a ral Click and hiccup the pound Pop a few bars, who eat and devour the bars Nice rip you a bitch, still a coward in cars Off the marijuana, I will Sarah Conner your squad On the scene clean, we are the champions Pa Rap Gouda, it's a rap the gat shoot you Dough fight the dyke, Lou Duva Provoke Mic ice pick, your bitch shoot coolers P, good night Pa you're a loser Listen I rap better than most dudes Most dudes can't rap and tap on your boat shoes P, bust my nine Sean Price thinking Justin Tyme, let's do it [Hook] [Verse 3: Ruste Juxx] Machine gun skunk I blow dolo That's why your bitch jocked me like Polo I ain't gotta go get it cause I got it on me I smell like palm trees, nothing but exotic on me Hoes get erotic on me, I put the pipe down Stick the pipe in her mouth tell her pipe down Now lick a shot for niggas doing life inside Grabbing you by the neck, sticking the knife inside It's B-R-double-O-K, double A-K brining trouble your way Knock niggas out, they can't get off the ground Shell cases found, the cops get off the ground So put a muzzle on that bi-suiter rap shit Nigga knuckle up, cock rugers back bitch Ruste Juxx bullets blow out your brain Think it's a game, listen to Lil' Fame [Hook] [Verse 4: Justin Tyme] Foul lyrical assassins, patented the truth We gonna carry the torch son when we get in the booth Nothing to prove, ask Statik [?] Everybody follow is watching, yeah you better salute Nobody move until we say so, from Murda Mass to BK You better lay low ho It's a takeover, the game's over, we stay sober It ain't over, who told you dawg we can't honor It's the 2K11 and we still push figures Got mad haters, but they still don't get us It's the Clash of the Titans, you want beef start biting Like Iron Mike Tyson in his prime make you fighting We got the tracks make, Mr. Who gon smash Legendary friend, got the hook on smash Yeah, we make all these cute girls turn bad It's a no-brainer, bout to steal game [Hook] [Verse 5: Hannibal Stax] Move motherfucker, what part you ain't understand I'll murder something with the steel in my hand Blaow, blaow, blaow Knock something off quick Can't dance with the wolves I walk with, we don't talk shit We holla at the moon, let you feel that boom Sookie, run or you are doomed Send your punk-ass to the upper room We do this, AMs, PMs, evenings and afternoons Mornings it's on, a new day is dawning Popping off over here, international warning From New York to Switzerland, we gets it in Competition, don't want none We send them things whistling Vision that, holla back it's beast mode Unleashed through the collar rap Who gotta problem with that, hey yo Slap These clowns get slapped, word to G-ma, it’s H-Stax [Hook]