Are you ready to throw down? Yes, we are. Well, get on down like you're supposed to,

and shake your ass on the carpet like the old school. Are you ready to throw down? Yes, we are.

Well, get on down like you're supposed to, and give a local little tap when it roll through.

If it be a dope beat that all y 'all seek, get up out your seat and let me see your technique.

Freak your physique and you better not coage. Make it hot and sweaty like 20 deep in the Jeep,

never coming cheap, 40 creep. And I hope you don't mind if I borrow a few things while you

go to sleep. I still got it from the kitchen. Give it to the poets, do the old local together

with Dr. Superhero. Take it from the back and bring it to the front, cause you gotta give

the people what they want. They'll bump through the stump, do the butt, big homie, shake your butt.

It's all got to get your ass up. It's a party over here, but let me make it clear, 40 thieves

in the crew, so you better come anew. Ain't a damn thing changed since the first one. And if

you didn't hear the album, go get one. Are you ready to throw down? Let's beat up. Well,

get up down like you're supposed to, and shake your ass on the carpet like the old school.

Are you ready to throw down? Let's beat up. Well, get up down like you're supposed to,

and give a local little tap when it roll through. Here come the thieves from the old school beat,

and I never knew the meaning of the word defeat. The master of the skies want to see the people

rise, yet fools try to deny that the primes have flied. Just cook them all up like Dumbo,

and block their ass like Mutombo, cause the album dropped off the charts like Dumbo.

They all knew and they proved to make you put on your boogie shoes like KC and the Sunshine Band,

or the Wu -Tang Clan. I go way back like Pegas, Nixon, and Noriega,

said didn't you play a fat box on the crossfader? Now, what if hip -hop was like comfy dummies sitting

on the wall, and what if hip -hop had to take a great fall, and what if rhyme was a crime,

and each and every time that you spit a dope line, you might have to do some time.

Most of these clowns will be trying to skim down, but Coolio will be ready for the showdown.

Are you ready to go down? Yes, we are. Well, get on down like your folks do,

and shake your ass on the corner like the old school. Are you ready to go down? Yes, we are.

Well, get on down like your folks do, and pass the joint to the rope, run and go through.

If the shoe fit, wear it on instead, and if your ass can't cast, don't let your mind ride,

no check. Who's being the four sun bands with a switch? Uppercuts and right kicks,

from where the Yankees play. From dope and Yoda flows, and I'm rolling with the 4 -0.

This hip -hop that I'm holding, I make it move, you're coded. It's the bandito, everything but

rhyme coded. Breaking and innocent, first position at the podium. You can't understand how I do it,

I'm just too cool, and I let my pen flow across the paper like it was made of fluid. Let it ring,

let it rip, everybody holler like Marvin Gaye. But don't you let the record skip,

synchronize your watch, let the party don't stop, till the neighborhood watch call the cops.

It's the wild -ass festival, ghost line venture once again, dropping bombs on your section.

Are you ready to go down? Yes, we are. Well, get on down like your folks do,

and shake your arse forward like your old school. Are you ready to go down? Yes, we are.

Well, get on down like your folks do, and pass the crew to the North when it roll through.

Are you ready to go down? Yes, we are. Well, get on down like your folks do,

and shake your arse forward like your old school. Are you ready to go down? Yes, we are.

But get up there now like you're supposed to, and give a local little dab when it roll through, fool.