Hold it Down
DJ Jazzy Jeff Feat. Method Man Lyrics


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I hold it down
I hold it down
I hold it down
I hold it down

Aight, Staten Island, what up?
Yeah, Long Island, what up? Come on
Jazzy Jeff, y'all

Philly, what's good?
Haha, New Jersey
Yo, I just had a Philly Cheese Steak
That shit was good as a muthafucka, baby

Yo, yo, who do it till the death?
Let the magnificent Jeff go do it to the rest
You see the difference, assumin' we a threat
Y'all just impotent, ain't no use of screwin' with the best, naw

I wrote a 16 and throw it in a tech
Shootin' game at these fools now for foolin' with a vet, yeah
It's Mr. Mef really, who did you expect?
Another shit talkin? MC with booty on the breath, naw

Let's smoke somethin', let your dude hold somethin'
And this dudes coke runnin' till the blue coats comin' yes
Cruise still stuntin', radio still frontin'
And the stuff they still bumpin' got me numb, I feel nothin', Jeff

So I'ma get it like I spit it
Get my glass, you can fill it to the rim with the realest and
I'm talkin' back when Biggie Smalls was the illest
And the boys from Cypress Hill said ?How I Could Just Kill A Man?

Already knowin' how we go, let's get at your people
I'm flowin', these streets know I hold it down
And put it down with The G Code, Jeff, just let the beat go
I'm reppin' the East Coast, so hold it now

Already knowin' how we go, let's get at your people
I'm flowin', these streets know I hold it down
And put it down with The G Code, Jeff, just let the beat go
I'm reppin' the East Coast, so hold it now

Until my nuts get room enough to breath
I'ma break down the leaf, my brotha, crush the weed
Not Puff Daddy, no boy, I puff the trees
In a room full of crackers, I might cut the cheese

They called me Mr. I got what you need
And a bag of sour dezz, you ain't gotta pluck the seeds, naw
So hit the peddle, I'll bring you up to speed
Nearly smashed up to Beamer, no more cognac for me

See, I'm in my backyard still cleanin'
All the fiends still fiendin', better deal with the demons and
I'm just bein' rash, I'm like what's the meanin'
'Cause as far as MCin' I ain't likin' what I'm seein', man

Nah, so M E F's on some other shit
Feel it like that first piece of pussy, fell in love with it
Y'all know what up with it, if I got my brother
Get money, clothes, hoes, 24?s on the mothership

Already knowin' how we go, let's get at your people
I'm flowin', these streets know I hold it down
And put it down with The G Code, Jeff, just let the beat go
I'm reppin' the East Coast, so hold it now

Already knowin' how we go, let's get at your people
I'm flowin', these streets know I hold it down




And put it down with The G Code, Jeff, just let the beat go
I'm reppin' the East Coast, so hold it now

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of DJ Jazzy Jeff's Hold It Down feat. Method Man emphasize the duo's confidence and dedication to their craft. They start the song by giving a shout-out to their hometowns and feature Jazzy Jeff's signature scratches on the turntable. Method Man goes on to boast about his skills as an MC and his experience in the music industry. He references past hip-hop legends like Notorious B.I.G. and Cypress Hill while criticizing the current state of hip-hop.


Method Man's verses are full of clever wordplay and humorous references. He talks about smoking weed, cutting the cheese, and getting his "nuts" room to breathe. He also references his classic hip-hop album with Redman, Blackout!, by mentioning "clothes, hoes, 24's on the mothership" as a nod to their song "Da Rockwilder". Overall, the song is a celebration of hip-hop and the East Coast rap scene.


Line by Line Meaning

I hold it down
I am taking care of everything/keeping things under control


Aight, Staten Island, what up?
Sup, Staten Island?


Yeah, Long Island, what up? Come on
What's good, Long Island? Let's go


Philly, what's good?
What's up, Philadelphia?


Haha, New Jersey
Just laughing and acknowledging New Jersey


Yo, I just had a Philly Cheese Steak That shit was good as a muthafucka, baby
I had a cheesesteak from Philly and it tasted amazing


Yo, yo, who do it till the death?
Who keeps doing it until they die?


Let the magnificent Jeff go do it to the rest
Let the talented Jazzy Jeff do it to the others


You see the difference, assumin' we a threat
Can't you see the contrast? Assuming that we're a danger


Y'all just impotent, ain't no use of screwin' with the best, naw
You're just powerless, there's no point in challenging the best, no


I wrote a 16 and throw it in a tech
I wrote a 16-bar verse and recorded it


Shootin' game at these fools now for foolin' with a vet, yeah
I'm giving some advice to these fools who are messing with a veteran rapper


It's Mr. Mef really, who did you expect?
It's really Method Man, who did you anticipate?


Another shit talkin? MC with booty on the breath, naw
Just another foul-mouthed rapper with bad breath, no


Let's smoke somethin', let your dude hold somethin'
Let's smoke something and share it


And this dudes coke runnin' till the blue coats comin' yes
This guy's selling cocaine until the cops come, yes


Cruise still stuntin', radio still frontin'
We're still showboating and radio is still pretending


And the stuff they still bumpin' got me numb, I feel nothin', Jeff
The music they're still playing is numbing me, I don't feel anything


So I'ma get it like I spit it
I'm going to get it (money/fame) just like I spit out these lyrics


Get my glass, you can fill it to the rim with the realest and
Fill up my glass with the realest stuff


I'm talkin' back when Biggie Smalls was the illest
I'm talking about the time when Notorious B.I.G. was the best


And the boys from Cypress Hill said ?How I Could Just Kill A Man?
And Cypress Hill made a popular song called 'How I Could Just Kill A Man'


Until my nuts get room enough to breath
Until I have some space to relax and breathe


I'ma break down the leaf, my brotha, crush the weed
I'll break down the marijuana leaf and crush the weed


Not Puff Daddy, no boy, I puff the trees
I don't smoke like Puff Daddy, dude, I smoke trees (marijuana)


In a room full of crackers, I might cut the cheese
In a room full of white people, I might fart


They called me Mr. I got what you need
They call me Mister because I have what you need (referring to drugs)


And a bag of sour dezz, you ain't gotta pluck the seeds, naw
And I have a bag of sour diesel, you don't have to remove the seeds, no


So hit the peddle, I'll bring you up to speed
So step on the gas pedal, I'll update you about things


Nearly smashed up to Beamer, no more cognac for me
I almost crashed my BMW, I won't drink cognac anymore


See, I'm in my backyard still cleanin'
I'm still cleaning up the mess in my backyard


All the fiends still fiendin', better deal with the demons and
All the addicts are still craving, we better confront our inner demons


I'm just bein' rash, I'm like what's the meanin'
I'm just being impulsive, wondering what it all means


'Cause as far as MCin' I ain't likin' what I'm seein', man
As far as rapping goes, I'm not liking what I'm seeing (in the industry)


Nah, so M E F's on some other shit
Nah, I (Method Man) am on some different, unique stuff


Feel it like that first piece of pussy, fell in love with it
It feels like the first time having sex, I fell in love with it


Y'all know what up with it, if I got my brother
You already know what's going on if I have my brother with me


Get money, clothes, hoes, 24?s on the mothership
Let's get money, clothes, women, and ride 24-inch rims on a luxurious vehicle


And put it down with The G Code, Jeff, just let the beat go
And represent with The G Code, Jazzy Jeff, just let the music play


I'm reppin' the East Coast, so hold it now
I'm representing the East Coast, so keep it going




Lyrics © DistroKid, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: CLIFFORD SMITH, SCOTT SPENCER STORCH, T. GIBSON

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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