Get Up Get Off Songtext
von The Prodigy

Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian

You gotta get up
Gotta get up
You gotta get up
Gotta get up
If you wanna get-

I hate people that ain′t movin' their shoes
And I hate everybody that I see not feelin′ my groove
I like rhymes that be quick as we be takin' the bar
But I hate everybody that don't like electric guitars and I

Hate people who think they can dose up their medicine
Fuckin′ with venom, they′s no one, they do not compare to me and I
Twista spit the flow so hard it might show them the force
I'd like to see somebody talkin′ shit get turned to a corpse
Only model with the ones that got the wickedest drawers
Drink liquor and ballers love, I can kick it with ya'll but


Hate phony ass people
And I hate having no dro
And I hate bougie-ass clubs that don′t be havin'
No bitches that bring it down to the floor
And I hate when I can′t hurt somebody
And I hate when I ain't got dough
And I hate if you ain't feelin′ Twista and Prodigy
Rockin′ loose and partly losing control

You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off

You gotta get up
Gotta get up
You gotta get up
Gotta get up
If you wanna get-

Hate phony ass people
And I hate having no dro
And I hate bougie-ass clubs that don't be havin′
No bitches that bring it down to the floor
And I hate when I can't hurt somebody
And I hate when I ain′t got dough
And I hate if you ain't feelin′ Twista and Prodigy
Rockin' loose and partly losing control


You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off

Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian

Keep your eyes open just so I can stop you from blinkin'
Make you play Russian Roulette and try to see what you′re thinkin′
Through the hole in your dome while I'm holding my own
Get so cold in the zone I′m destroying my clone
I can fill the fuckin' room up with torture and pain
Blood of the lyrical Dracula is coursing my veins
It′s the trilogy of terror, real MC from my era
Then I spit vocal agility, then I scare ya

Because I hate ya'll phony ass people
And I hate having no dro
And I hate bougie-ass clubs that don′t be havin'
No bitches that bring it down to the floor
And I hate when I can't hurt somebody
And I hate when I ain′t got dough
And I hate if you ain′t feelin' Twista and Prodigy
Rockin′ loose and partly losing control

You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off
You gotta get up
If you wanna get off

Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian
Aa aana, aye aye aan mundian