Get Down! - Fifty Grand

Grab a Glock

Fire in the crowd

Everyone duck

Get down

Get down to the rhythm of my piston

Get down to the rhythm of my piston

I never miss I always hit ‘em

Get down to the rhythm

Get down to the rhythm

Get down get down get down get—

«Oh my god!

She’s got a gun

And she’s coming, run!»

Where’s your Mom

When the clocks stop

And the bombs go off?

Come on get it if you want it

Jump on it I’ll run up on ya

I’m the barracuda, the shooter

Now tell me whatcha gonna do?

Sleep on me like a dakimakura?

Now it’s time to meet your maker

I’m your reaper undertaker

I am such a troublemaker

You are just a tattletale

A rat that I’ve got by the tail

Who you gonna tell

With a bullet in your head?

Grab a Glock

Fire in the crowd

Everyone duck

Get down

Get down to the rhythm of my piston

Get down to the rhythm of my piston

I never miss I always hit ‘em

Get down to the rhythm

Get down to the rhythm

Get down get down get down get—

Machetes, grenades, even Uzis

Whatcha gonna do when we start shooting?

Who you gonna see

When you start bleeding

Crying pleading for your life?

Look me in the eyes

Before you die

I’ll decide if you survive

The way you lived was so contrived

Stand in line

Back to the wall

Bodies fall

And hit the floor

You used to talk shit

And call me a whore

Say it to my face

Chad and Stacy

I’ll cut a fake bitch

With a switchblade

Cuz a gun is like so cliché

This all fun and games

Make it rain

Guts and brains

Bitch I came

Just to slay

I’ll make you pay

I’ll break your legs

I’m a fucking psycho

In a downward spiral

Brought a fucking rifle

I’m so fucking spiteful

I just wanna fight yo

Got no clothes under my trench coat

Oh no

Got no clothes under my trench coat

Oh no