Lyrics Get Right - Mac Mall
[Levitti]
Get
right
Get
right
Get
right
[VERSE
1]
I
can't
lie,
I
like
to
get
high
and
figure-8
when
I
drive
Blow
doja
rope
in
the
sky
for
all
my
cuddies
that
died
We
can't
do
nothin
but
strive
during
the
struggle
You
want
a
silver
spoon
in
your
mouth,
you
gotta
hustle
As
I
take
another
hit
of
the
spliff
that
soldiers
passin
The
only
chance
I
get
to
feel
peace,
I
gotta
have
some
So
see,
I
spark
the
holla
a
lot,
it
keeps
me
goin
Baby
boy
3 steps
ahead
of
his
death,
and
mama
knowin
So
she's
sayin,
"Baby,
change
your
ways"
But
I
was
raised
in
the
days
of
Uzis
and
A.K.'s
Where
killers
play
their
deadly
game
called
the
pistol-tag
Just
let
me
live,
I
ask
But
if
you're
caught
in
a
cross,
then
I'ma
off
your
ass
Young
nigga
that's
tryin
to
have
the
better
things
in
life
He
went
from
crookin
and
rookin
to
jookin
overnight
Some
try
to
say
he
ain't
right,
but
who's
to
say
that
he's
wrong
That's
why
you're
starvin,
and
the
name
of
this
song
Is
get
some
Get
Right
[CHORUS:
Levitti
You,
you
need
to
get
some
get
right
Cause
fools,
they
choose
to
front
their
whole
life
You
need
to
get
some
get
right
Cause
fools,
they
choose
to
front
their
whole
life
[VERSE
2]
I
tried
to
tell
my
young
partner
to
take
a
look
at
his
life
But
he
don't
like
how
it's
lookin,
because
his
money
ain't
right
And
gettin
high
as
a
kite
is
his
way
to
escape
the
ghetto
heat
In
them
streets
where
it
ain't
no
peace
He's
stayin
fast
on
his
feet,
cause
the
rollers
be
chainin
And
if
they
have
you
with
that
d,
it
ain't
no
use
in
explainin
Cause
they
gon'
slam
you
on
your
face,
haul
you
off
with
a
case
And
in
the
belly
of
the
beast
you're
straight
tucked
away
But
he
don't
hear
me
though,
he
rather
sling
the
dope
And
to
that
day
illegal
business
got
my
folks
smoked
It
got
me
feelin
like
it
ain't
no
hope
for
black
males
If
you're
out
there
in
the
life
it's
either
jail
or
it's
hell
See,
jail
is
what
they
send
us
to
And
hell
is
what
we're
livin
through
So
get
some
get
right
is
what
you
better
do
[Levitti]
Better
do
[Mac
Mall]
Better
do
[x3]
[CHORUS]
[VERSE
3]
Now
back
in
1983
we
played
as
kids
in
the
street
Never
thought
in
'96
I'd
roll
my
strip
totin
heat
And
player,
funkin
with
the
feds
was
never
fun
to
me
But
man,
the
rollers
try
to
take
the
hood
from
under
me
Haters
come
with
jealousy,
but
they
ain't
fadin
me
none
Too
busy
mackin
bout
my
mail
and
tryin
to
make
21
Some
of
my
cuddies
didn't
live
to
see
the
big
twump-ace
And
I
be
damned
if
I
got
out
like
a
statistic
today
So
I'ma
get
some
get
right,
get
my
game
tight
Hustlin
on
the
mic,
now
my
name's
in
lights
Me
and
my
cuddies
was
broke,
but
not
no
mo',
mayn
They
down
with
Cessed
Out,
so
there's
no
more
cocaine
Tryin
to
show
my
folks
there's
way
mo'
To
life
than
just
bangin
and
hittin
licks
and
sellin
dope
Playboy,
it's
almost
2000,
peep
the
game's
gettin
colder
And
if
somebody
asks
ya,
tell
em
Mac
Mall
told
ya
[CHORUS]
1 Intro
2 Lets Get a Telly
3 Straight Lace
4 Servin Game
5 Young Nigga
6 Dopefiend's Lullaby
7 Ghetto Stardom
8 Get Right
9 Playas Wit da Choppas
10 Get Away
11 Pimp or Die
12 Untouchable
13 Opening Doors
14 Playa Tip
15 Crestside
16 Outro
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