Get Up – Song and Lyrics by Afrob



Duration: 3:47

Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Get Up’ by Afrob. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of Afrob or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

I see a whole team of chicks tryin to sit wit us
drinkin Dom, smokin charm, wanna get wit us
Got my, V.I.P. section game locked down
goin bad for J-Bad he just came in town
we lovin Tai on the floor, smokin lai wit tips
Ladies in the amazin, cuz we in the mix
all the peeps from my hood,
wearin timbs and jeans
Lost Boyz represent from South Jamaica Queens
I’m wit my mens spendin ends
orderin liquors and beers
aint nuttin new to this
we’ve been doin this for years
I got my drink on kid, and my cash is right
shorty aight think Im not gettin ass tonite?
and wit Malik and Melquan, my man Hassan
yo shorty what you wearin is turnin me on
takin me, makin me wanna bounce wit you
It’s alright, we got all night to smoke an ounce or two

Get Up and clap yo hands
come on and clap yo hands

A few hours in the jam and a fighter
jeans saggin, timberland tied up
see my old crew from the mystery
big Phil from Queensville still gettin cheese
all my peeps from the van gettin nice my man
L.B. style run the while represent my fam
makin moves makin ho’s puffin buddha sacks
reresentin Lost Boyz stayibn true to dat
I must bring it to the funk
cuz the funk is it
seein shortie on the floor
tryin to show the skirt
I wanna, run up on her and…
push up on her and..
kick some Willie Bobo and let her know that I want her and
hit the door, let the Ac hit the streets(streets)
get our beats(beats), gets in between the sheets
hit the door, for the fam
back in my Ac, Im outta town

Get Up and clap yo hands
come on and clap yo hands

Its mad cars up in front the piece
shorties bouncin(bounce bounce)
niggas on the corner, 40 ouncin
puffin lai, kickin it to shorties passin by
see some be actin ill
and some be actin fly
But inside it’s the L.B. slide
music pumpin smokin skunk
gettin funkdafied
while Ro, Pretty Lou, J-Bowl n Bo
we just a fiend in effect
nigga pop the Mo
backed up by Jeff Star
ladies takin flicks
Spigg Nice got the flyin wit Jamaican chicks
it aint no real ill shit, when L.B.’s in town
(Get up, Get Up, Get Up)
you know how we get down