Get Down
cam'ron & juelz Lyrics
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Remember Santana was next
Now its not techs, its checks and fancy collects
I want his wrist, fist, whole had, jammed with baguettes
Pose for the camera man me and Santana man
Word to my grand ma he one bad mamma jamma, damn
So I don't write for the stardom
I've been through it headed right for the bottom
D.C. naw, would've been a sniper in Harlem (so what)
That's why I throw some doe to my cody from Kosovo
Help me get on overflow (shhh) no one suppose to know
But she lay me up like the prime minister
Thousand grams of dope smellin' like Hine Vinegar
That was a lot to linger, but to the top I bring her
But when it came to dope, I always copped in fingers
Money missin', oh shit I almost chopped some fingers
Slit some wrist, that's when they said oh shit he's not a singer
Fuck the rap, fuck the movies, fuck Siskel and Ebert
This pistol I'll squeeze it, missiles if needed (killa)
Remember I'm gonna spend my cake
Remember Jim we getting out of five eights (projects)
Now chefs will fry us steaks (that's true) it's a higher stake
Swiss accounts I'm goin' show you how to wire cake
And we from BBQ, now you a CEO, direct a video
Your own album here we go
That's my man anytime I holla, holla with me
We shared chicken sandwiches they was a $1.50
But you seven dollars, nickel bag and white owl
I hope the chicken sandwich last us through the night child
We ain't care we didn't sleep we was night owls
Insomniacs our life styles compatible
Magical pops gone, shit tragical
Mom's on mission, my house is where the attics chill
I'm like a teacher, I need me a sabbatical
Its not irrational, I grew up radical
And you all are shook, I bought all my crooks
Fuck you R&B niggas Zeek sing all the hooks
Tito and Brick yes yes come again
They came sun or rain when I had that stomach pain (what else)
In Cam'ron f. Juelz Santana's song "Get Down," the lyrics are a reflection on the journey to success and the changes that come with it. Cam'ron reminds listeners that he is someone to be respected and acknowledges that Santana is up next. He talks about how before, it was all about guns and violence, and now it's about the checks and the fancy material possessions. Cam'ron wants everything, including his wrist, fists, and his whole hand jam-packed with diamonds. He and Santana are always prepared to pose for the cameras and show off their wealth.
Cam'ron goes on to explain that he doesn't write for fame, but instead, he writes down his problems after getting "booted" and "zooted." Though he's been through a lot, he's now on the right path and would have been a sniper in Harlem if not for music. The lyrics go on to describe his relationships, including his cody from Kosovo, who helps him with money, and his old friend Jim, who shared cheap chicken sandwiches with him.
In the end, Cam'ron describes his life as an insomniac and how it has become magical but also tragical. He admits that he grew up radical and that he and his crew don't care about R&B singers since Zeek sings all the hooks. Ultimately, the lyrics reflect the various hardships and setbacks that Cam'ron endured before making it in the music industry.
Line by Line Meaning
Remember I'm a man of respect (remember)
Do not forget that I am a man who commands respect
Remember Santana was next
Do not forget that Juelz Santana would come next in our music
Now its not techs, its checks and fancy collects
We have moved past drugs and guns to making money legally and extravagantly
I want his wrist, fist, whole had, jammed with baguettes
I want to see jewelry and wealth all over my body and that of Juelz Santana
Pose for the camera man me and Santana man
We want to look good and take pictures with the camera man
Word to my grand ma he one bad mamma jamma, damn
Juelz Santana is really great like my grandmother would say, damn
So I don't write for the stardom
I do not write music for fame or fortune
I get, booted, zooted, write down my problems
I write music when I am high and getting drunk to express myself
I've been through it headed right for the bottom
I have been through rough times and heading straight for failure
D.C. naw, would've been a sniper in Harlem (so what)
If I wasn't a rapper, I would have been a sniper in Harlem - it doesn't matter
That's why I throw some doe to my cody from Kosovo
I give some money to my friend from Kosovo to help me make more money
Help me get on overflow (shhh) no one suppose to know
He helps me make more money secretly and no one knows about it
But she lay me up like the prime minister
She takes care of me like I am the prime minister
Thousand grams of dope smellin' like Hine Vinegar
I have lots of drugs that smell like Hine Vinegar
That was a lot to linger, but to the top I bring her
It was tough getting here, but I made it to the top with her
But when it came to dope, I always copped in fingers
When it came to drugs, I always bought them in small packages
Money missin', oh shit I almost chopped some fingers
When I realized money was missing, I almost cut off some fingers in anger
Slit some wrist, that's when they said oh shit he's not a singer
I thought about killing myself, but people realized I was not a singer
Fuck the rap, fuck the movies, fuck Siskel and Ebert
I don't care about or respect rap, movies or film critics
This pistol I'll squeeze it, missiles if needed (killa)
I am willing to use violence if necessary, hence my nickname 'Killa'
Remember I'm gonna spend my cake
Don't forget that I am going to spend my money
Remember Jim we getting out of five eights (projects)
Don't forget, Jim Jones and I are getting out of the projects
Now chefs will fry us steaks (that's true) it's a higher stake
Now we can afford to have steak prepared by chefs, it is a bigger risk with bigger returns
Swiss accounts I'm goin' show you how to wire cake
I will show you how to wire money to Swiss bank accounts
And we from BBQ, now you a CEO, direct a video
We are from the bottom, now you are a CEO and even directing videos
Your own album here we go
Now it's time for you to release your own album
That's my man anytime I holla, holla with me
That's my friend, he'll be with me whenever I need him
We shared chicken sandwiches they was a $1.50
We used to share chicken sandwiches when they were only $1.50
But you seven dollars, nickel bag and white owl
Now we can afford $7 and even better drugs, like nickel bags and white owls
I hope the chicken sandwich last us through the night child
I hope we have enough chicken sandwiches to get us through the night
We ain't care we didn't sleep we was night owls
We didn't care, we stayed up all night without sleeping
Insomniacs our life styles compatible
Our lifestyles are suited for staying up all night - we are insomniacs
Magical pops gone, shit tragical
My father, who was like a magician, is dead, which is very sad
Mom's on mission, my house is where the attics chill
My mother is on a mission and my house is where people come to get high
I'm like a teacher, I need me a sabbatical
I am like a teacher who needs a break to recharge - I need a sabbatical
Its not irrational, I grew up radical
My attitude is not irrational, I was raised to be radical
And you all are shook, I bought all my crooks
You all are scared, but I have bought all my powerful connections
Fuck you R&B niggas Zeek sing all the hooks
I don't like R&B artists, let Zeek sing the choruses
Tito and Brick yes yes come again
Tito and Brick are great - say it again
They came sun or rain when I had that stomach pain (what else)
They were always there through good times or bad, like when I had stomach pain
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: MARVIN P GAYE, CAM'RON GILES, CHAD WES HAMILTON, IVY JO HUNTER
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind