[Intro]
Yo, yo wassup
Theres a lot a like em'

[Verse 1]
First we step on stage, don't give a fuck
And if you don't like my record it's your hard luck
My names Schoolly D, I'm running amuck
I tell you where to go and what to suck
I'm b-boy tough and I'm b-boy hard
My .357 is my calling card
I was born and raised on Parkside Ave
Chilling was the cool and the coolest of bad
We get Ill!

[Chorus]
C'mon and get Ill!
C'mon, c'mon and get Ill!

[Verse 2]
Like a .357 pointed at your head sucka!
I know you from the past, so i'll call you mothafucka
Code is cutting and I'm saying some rhymes
Don't realize these rhymes is mine
The DJ is cutting and he's a friend of mine
Kicking out parties, sipping Coqui 9
In the b-boy stance making ya dance
You gots to call him Code, but I call him Lance
Kicking on 1200's is the life long dream
Knocking out all suckas, making young girls scream
Get Ill!
[Chorus]
C'mon, c'mon and get Ill!
C'mon and get Ill!
We get Ill!

[Interlude]
Yeah, yeah we're getting Ill
You know what I mean?
You know what I'm saying?
Code on the table, get Ill man!

[Chorus]
We get Ill!
C'mon and get Ill
Get Ill!