Funk U Up

(Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) (Get down) (Wessyde) [ VERSE 1: Havikk the Rhime Son ] I'm posted up in a Cutlass, hoo-bangin in a bucket Hennessy got a nigga mind shifted, so fuck it Told you muthafuckas we was back droppin amity Riders on deck, Chuck T's my calamity Servin any niggas tryin to dip on them whips 100 spokes gold thangs so I bangs with the clip Out of the cut like a ( ? ) I slides like a Klingon ( ? ) hit the switch and leave that ass froze like freon It's them mad-ass Cartel gangsters Throwin bolos so fuck what Bo knows cause I'ma bank ya Put your ass on some crutches Stackin ends like the Dutches Counterreact for the attack like Marcus Allen rushes It's that Westside rider Rhime Son, like that In a 'burban still swervin sippin on a cognac With my tag team, Prode'je, nigga, you couldn't fuck with the realest We get in that ass like Bruce Willis Bitch (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Westside (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Eastside rider (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Yeah (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Nigga (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Peep game (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Well, sit your punk-ass down (..down) Eastside rider [ VERSE 2: Prode'je ] Predatory like the Terminator, mo' game than Sega How many muthafuckas wanna step to this omega Supreme, the .44 cocked for the cream I fiend for the green so the gee's on the scene My diamond's in the back but your diamond's in my pocket I knock your jaws loose flyin things like a rocket You couldn't stop it cause 6-4's, yeah, we drops it Comin for your ( ? ) slingin muthafuckin toxic Niggas never loc unless you worry S.C Cause many muthafuckas I can bury O.G But when you close your eyes it's the gees comin atcha Khakis, Chuck T's, Beefy-Tee's, I'ma gatcha Steady dippin, things whippin, am I crippin Niggas hate a player so the playa-hatas trippin When the Rhime Son ridin shotgun niggas see the blues And we don't give a fuck about yo crews (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Eastside rider (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Wessyde (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Haha (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Geah (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) 1996 (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Sit yo ass down (...down) Cartel riders [ VERSE 3: Rhime Son ] I'm dippin back to the hood ragged up too deep Extended clips, hollow tips, Murder Squad don't sleep I'm terrorizin a terroist, fuck Hussein and his posse Expanded flows, hot .44's, khaki saggin, fuck a Nazi I'm mobbin block to block, chronic got a nigga on twist I gets deeper than the death, so muthafuck the _Abyss_ It's the S.C. O.G. (Who I be?) H-a-v 96 in your shit, Rhime Son and Prode'je [ Prode'je ] Cause we be swingin 17, makin muthafuckas over Comin through your hoods like a muthafuckin soldier Gangsta rap is over, muthafuckas, how you figure? Cause bein anti-gee is like bein anti-nigga They try to put to bed but the gee is never sleepin I'm down with TLC cause the nigga sho' creepin The chronic flows, as it grows you'se a witness So sit the fuck down and let the gees handle business (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Westside (Funk you right on up We gonna funk you right on up) Eastside rider (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Yeah (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Nigga (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Busters (Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up) Sit your punk-ass down (..down) Nigga right Westside and Eastside on a mission, nigga 199-c-c, muthafuckas South Central Cartel beatin yo ass since '91 And it don't stop Never that, never that, nigga 199... to infinity Prode'je and Rhime Son, fool