The Lost Boyz, Mr. Cheeks and Freaky Tah - Get Up

Yeah
L-O-S-T
Yeah, yeah
Yeah
Aw, get up, get up
Ayy, yo
I'm goin' up to the rink
Yo

I see a whole team of chicks tryin' to sit wit us
We drinkin' Dom', smokin' charm, they wanna get wit' us
I got my, V.I.P. section game locked down
Moët bath for J-Bad he just came in town
We lovin' Tai on the floor, smokin' lai wit tips
Blazin' the amazin', the wiz' on the mix
All my peeps from my hood wearin' Timbs and jeans
Lost Boyz represent for South Jamaica Queens
I'm wit' my mens spendin' ends orderin' liquors and beers
Ain't nothin' new to this, we've been doin' this for years
I got my drink on kid, and my cash is right
Shorty, aight, think I'm not gettin' ass tonight?
I'm wit' Malik and Melquan, my man Hassan
And, 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 (yeah)
Get up and clap yo' hands (and, ha)
Come on and clap yo' hands

A few hours in the jam and I'm fired up
Jeans saggin', Timberlands tied up
See my old crew from the mysteries
Big Phil from Queensville still gettin' cheese
All my peeps from the van, gettin' nice my man
L.B. style run the wild, represent my fam
Makin' moves, backin' hoes, puffin' buddha sacks
Representin' Lost Boyz stayin' true to that
I must bring it to the funk 'Cause 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 eats (eats), gets in between the sheets
Hit it off, bust it down
Back in my Ac', I'm outta town

Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands (hey, say word, dog)
Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands
Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands
Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands

It's 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 and gettin' funkdafied
While Ro, Pretty Lou, J-Bowl and Bo
Queen Josephine in effect, nigga, pop the Mo'
Back door by Jeff Star shorty's takin' flicks
Spigg Nice 'bout to fly in wit' Jamaican chicks
It ain't no real ill shit, just L.B.'s in town
(Get up, get up, get up) you know how we get down

Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands
Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands
Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands
Get up and clap yo' hands
Come on and clap yo' hands

The L-O-S-T B-O-Y-Z
The L-O-S-T B-O-Y-Z
The L-O-S-T B-O-Y-Z
The L-O the S-T the B-O-Y-Z
The L-O-S-T B-O-Y-Z
The L-O-S-T B-O-Y-Z
The L-O-S-T B-O-Y-Z
The L-O the S-T B-O-Y-Z

Written by:
Reggie Lucas, James Mtume, Garfield Duncan, Kenton Nix, Terrance Cocheeks Kelly

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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