The mic will sing soon as I touch it  
 Do this smooth and easy like  
 So we might get hyped in here tonight  
 Be nice  relax  MC's further back  
 If you ain't with that  
 I'm a have to attack you with a bad rap  
 That can smack the smile off your face Jack  
 So don't start no crap  
 Givin' a little bit of heart and soul  
 As we do it to you in your earhole  
 Huh  I ain't going out like a sucker  
 And if you think so, boy, then pucker up  
 And kiss the butt of this lyricist  
 Blow on the mic and make a wish  
 This groove is set to soothe and move you  
 Party people now it's time to  
  
 Get up, I think the sound will make you  
 Get up, word up, I swear you got to  
 Get up, everybody get up  
 Get up, everybody get up  
 Get up, everybody get up  
  
 Spinderella my DJ's a turntable trooper  
 My partner Pepa she's a power booster  
 Word to life, I swear, she'll seduce ya  
 Don't take my word, I'll introduce her  
 I don't need no introduction, I just bust in  
 Grab a microphone and then start dustin'  
 So-called lyricists can never deal with this  
 Swift-lipped vocalists either and also if  
 I was a mute, I'd still knock boots  
 Put up your dukes, troop, and I'm-a play ya like a flute  
 To show you all on me you can't sleep on  
 Spinderella, please drop some beats on  
 This crowd, pump it up loud  
 Gimme a scratch, ok now  
 It's time for hell to be raised  
 As I kick some lyrics on the beats Hurb made  
 Salt's at my side with a shotgun  
 A little action? I just had some  
 What can I say? The girl don't play  
 Gonna skip town on Judgement Day  
 So don't just sit there like a poo-putt stupid  
 The record's called "Get Up", I think you better do it  
  
 Get up, everybody get up  
 Get up, everybody get up  
 Get up, everybody get up  
  
 Salty that's me flippin' on MCs  
 I'm not gonna waste your time on the strength, I'll be  
 Def, dumb, dope, completely phenominal  
 You didn't know? Yeah, right, come on now  
 Oh, I'm supposed to believe E-M-C-E-E's  
 Are glad Salt is makin' G's?  
 Save that crap, I got my public to rap to  
 Tried to play me out, I ought to slap you, punk  
 For being disrespectful  
 I grip the microphone like a pitbull terrier  
 Yes, but I'm scarier, under a ton of rhymes I'll bury ya  
 Hyped like a poet, on the mic I'll show it  
 Do-re-mi fa-so-la ti-do it  
 Jazz, rhythm, blues, soul, pop, rock 'n roll, even hip-hop  
 Lovers, are my brothers and sisters  
 All in all over ten billion listeners  
 Lend me your ear when you want to hear  
 The hypest and ripest sound of the year  
  
 Get up, everybody get up