Get off the Ground - Termanology, Sean Price, H-Staxx

Termanology!

You so!

You so!

(You so!)

Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah!

Show off!

Uh!

Ayo, I… send my condolences, to any rapper holdin' the crown

I’ma blow his wig off his body and roast some piff

Slammin' with my dudes, blickers move when I’m with the goons

Pistols pulled on 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 smokin'

I’m Pac, Hova, Nas;

I’mma start rock and rollin'

I’m Michelangelo, eatin' you like a cannibal

Greetin' you with my hammer-lo, deepest flow I’m mechanical

Mandible like Canibus, render these rappers like amateurs

Panickin' what you should be, my uzi weighin' a ton or two

I got determination, that’s right the Term' is waitin'

To turn your safe into my personal bank and burn your paper

The MC slaughterer, pardon us we make horror flicks

We choppin' bodies like calamari, ya pounds of fish

On the scale lucky lefty, Sonnie turn your vessy messy

It’s Termanology, rock with me, I be reppin' ST

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

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

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 Connor 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

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

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

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 bringin' 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

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

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

Foul lyrical assassins, patented the truth

We gonna carry the torch son when we get in the booth

Nothing to prove, ask Statik yeah we got on the proof

Everybody follow his watchin', 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 bitin'

Like Iron Mike Tyson in his prime make you frightened

We got the tracks, 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 the steal the game

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

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

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, real talk shit

We howl 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 dawnin'

Poppin' off over here, international warnin'

From New York to Switzerland, we gets it in

Competition, don’t want none

We send them things whistlin'

Vision that, holler 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

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

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, yeah

Yeah