Tekster: King Tee. Let's Get It On.

Let's get it on, it's time to get down
Let's get it on, it's time to get down

Huh, for your convenience
I'm fully equipped with the madness
Plus I bring joy to the sadness
Mr. Insane chose to bring the noise
I flex out the best out and I brought my boys

For the function, wait bring the pumps and the bumps in
Niggas wanna trip I got pumps in my trunk then
I rule all I survey, bust a move
Ain't nothin' changed but the god damn groove

I bring forth fat shit on the money
Homies wanna trip but I'm chillin' with the honies
My girl [unverified] and Nikki Nicole, gets papes
I brought Sable just for old time's sake

The real ruler wrecks records, I mean wrecks wombs
But now I got the psychedelic tune
I dedicate this to my true black sisters
Niggas bump this while they rollin' on them twisters

Let's get it on, it's time to get down
Let's get it on, it's time to get down

Yo, I told you man I don't play around with the music
I'm funkdafied, blowin' up acoustics
I'm rather remarkable when I kick the matter
Skilled in the field of rough grammar

I electrify and intoxicate the moment
I branch out and crush my opponent
It's Super Nigga in the skies, wild mannered
Reportin' on the sound, you got to gets down

Like I told ya and peep, you can write it in your book
'Cause yo, that's that shit with that Soul Train hook, yeah
The blackness gets stronger, the soul gets deep
Make room for the Alkaholik Sheik

I persist to be the infinite all-time great
I'm told that my name gained weight
Since the past, so hell, let me take it on the blast
Yo, yo, pass the rug before I bust my ass

Let's get it on, it's time to get down
Let's get it on, it's time to get down

Hey nig bust the funk, I feel somethin' comin'
Tales From the Crypt or I might just be buggin'
No propoganda, I stand outstander
A OutKast like them kids from Atlanta

I perform microphone exorcism on rappers
I cast out the demon from them bastards
And oh Nikke, you did the track, what's the plan?
Step to the mic and show these hookers how to slam

Flash for a style, Nikke is the picture
Open as I enter
I'd like to send a track that's fat, constant non-stoppin'
From Brooklyn to Compton, my shit is stompin'

I like to parlay on the Ave.
Every now and then smoke a blunt, sip a Heineken
I know a King named Tee, Tha Alkaholik
I can rock a rhyme no matter how you call it

Produce hits from the basement
I make loops, if they're used, I replace 'em
Nikke Nicole, the soul sound, bring the whole crew
We can all get down

Let's get it on, it's time to get down
Let's get it on, it's time to get down
Let's get it on, it's time to get down
Let's get it on, it's time to get down