Hold U Down

Lyrics

[Intro: U.G.] Check it out, check it [Verse 1: U.G.] U.G.'s magnificent like Morocco, used to rock flow Got to blow so I can drive a Land Cruiser Choose a heavy rings and things that make society eye me And attract thugs that wanna try me And stick me, my clique be thick, see, like Gerry Cooney More Gees than Spoonie, hands nice like Al Toon's be From the Jets, bets on dog races Sex in four places, Becks, drink four cases—what?!? Peep the scientist, me and Phan' roll like Power Man and Iron Fist Now shorties laying on my couch like a psychiatrist Automatics pop like grease when you frying fish This ain't no game, kid I see more fame than ten niggas I knew that blew Now it's time for us to get cash too [Verse 2: Phantasm] Ted DiBiase, The Million Dollar Emcee Check the Realms 'N Reality LP We murder niggas mentally, bet you, out of six rhymes, I'm four and better The big pictures was a Jetta and some Lo sweaters But that was years ago, now a nigga know MCs be living off this shit, and that's for real though Had dreams of being down with the Hit Squad The Dwellas is forever, and now we the shit, god If shorties hassle me, know a Butch named Cassidy Call me the Sundance Kid, soon to blow and live Full-court, breakaway rims, three G's and soundmen Single climbing, keep a nigga shining—true indeed My seed is the love of my life My only son, no wife, get nice, shoot dice Me and my man (Man) Silky Slim and Geechie Dan (Dan) On the road to the riches, keep the fame and the bitches [Chorus: U.G. & (Phantasm)] Son, it's like whatever (I got your back forever—don't sweat it) And if you're gonna set it, nigga, set it ('Cause I'ma hold you down, nah'mean? No fronting) Whether we be rapping or back-smacking something [Verse 3: U.G.] I throw flows like Joe Theismann, wise like Three Wise Men Pose like the Heisman in pictures My scriptures be Lethal Weapons, I bust like Mel Gibson on screen On-point like infrared beams Dreams of hot tubs, owning yachts and clubs with strippers With "Tommy Hil'" printed on my slippers Babe bro, pesos folded in clips Model ships up in bottles that be priceless The mic gets smashed on my behalf, flash steel on purpose Don't front for me, kid, it ain't worth it To get blasted, Dirty like the Bastard Heard a lot of trash shit on wax—some labels need to drop their acts (Word up) 'Cause when it's our turn to shine, you gon' see A gold LP, so what you telling me, Phantasm? [Verse 4: Phantasm] The Dwellas already got fame in the game One album to claim, putting crews to shame Just because you get a pound, don't think you down I know a lot of rap clowns all up in this town That smile in my face, behind my back, they talk trash Made a little cash, but how long will you last? Longevity's the key to the real money Rule four thousand and eighty: industry's shady My true friends in the biz is U.G. and Nick Wiz And some crazy-ass Crooklyn kids Bottom line, it's time to get mines for tracks and rhymes And generate papers like The New York Times [Chorus: Phantasm & (U.G.)] Son, it's like whatever (I got your back forever—don't sweat it) And if you're gonna set it, nigga, set it ('Cause I'ma hold you down, nah'mean? No fronting) Whether it be rapping or back-smacking something