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Get Up Everybody (get Up) Lyrics - 20th Century Masters - Salt N Pepa

Ok, y'all, this is it now bust it 

The mic will sing soon as I touch it 

Do this smooth and easy like 

So we might get hyped in here tonight 

Be nice, relax, MC's further back 

If you ain't with that, I'm-a have to attack you with a bad rap 

That can smack the smile off your face Jack 

So don't start no crap 

Givin' a little bit of heart and soul 

As we do it to you in your earhole 

Huh, I ain't going out like a sucker 

And if you think so, boy, then pucker up 

And kiss the butt of this lyricist 

Blow on the mic and make a wish 

This groove is set to soothe and move you 

Party people now it's time to 

 

Get up 

I think the sound will make you (get up) 

Word up, I swear you got to (get up) 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

 

Spinderella my DJ's a turntable trooper 

My partner Pepa she's a power booster 

Word to life, I swear, she'll seduce ya 

Don't take my word, I'll introduce her 

I don't need no introduction, I just bust in 

Grab a microphone and then start dustin' 

So-called lyricists can never deal with this 

Swift-lipped vocalists either and also if 

I was a mute, I'd still knock boots 

Put up your dukes, troop, and I'm-a play ya like a flute 

To show you all on me you can't sleep on 

Spinderella, please drop some beats on 

This crowd, pump it up loud 

Gimme a scratch, OK now 

It's time for hell to be raised 

As I kick some lyrics on the beats Hurb made 

Salt's at my side with a shotgun 

A little action? I just had some 

Wicked I say, the girl don't play 

Gonna skip town on Judgement Day 

So don't just sit there like a poo-putt stupid 

The record's called "Get Up", I think you better do it 

 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

 

Salty that's me flippin' on MCs 

I'm not gonna waste your time on the strength, I'll be 

Def, dumb, dope, completely phenominal 

You didn't know? Yeah, right, come on now 

Oh, I'm supposed to believe E-M-C-E-E's 

Are glad Salt is makin' G's? 

Save that crap, I got my public to rap to 

Tried to play me out, I ought to slap you, punk 

For being disrespectful 

I grip the microphone like a pitbull terrier 

Yes, but I'm scarier 

Under a ton of rhymes I'll bury ya 

Hyped like a poet, on the mic I'll show it 

Do-re-mi fa-so-la ti-do it 

Jazz, rhythm, blues, soul, pop, rock 'n roll, even hip-hop 

Lovers, are my brothers and sisters 

All in all over ten billion listeners 

Lend me your ear when you want to hear 

The hypest and ripest sound of the year 

 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Everybody get up 

Get up 

Get up 

Get up 

Get up 

Writer:

Copyright: Chappell Music, Inc., Warner