"Still Get Down" genre: Hip Hop
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	There’s alot more “to keep’in it real” than Puff’in, Push’in and Dom P !!!
	CD: Torture, Taught Ya'   Label: ashaRecords.com Credits: Written, Produced, Arranged, by Roey Shamir and Angela Piva for INFX Productions.Recorded and Mixed by Roey Shamir.Written, Co-produced and Co-arranged by AF the KING for BricksHitHouse Productions
	Story Behind the Song Song written in early 1998. Later recorded at INFX Loft Studios, Drums were overdubbed at Unique Recording. Then all other overdubs and Mixes were done at INFX using the Protools 24 Mix plus DAW. Just one of the slam'in tracks off the upcoming "Torture, Taught Ya'" CD on ashaRecords.com Lyrics STILL GET DOWN ©p1999 You’re bragging about sixteen rounds in your clips, talking ‘bout flippin’. Thousands of regiments are training, keepin’ blacks backs rippin’. Practicin’ cap peelin’. Father’s catchin’ feelings ‘cause to their daughters, we’re appealing. Gettin’ meals and millions! What a feelin’, this vicious cycle of villain. If we’re lacking loot, we’re scum. We stack loot, we’re dealin’. An oxymoron they’re pourin’ on with a quickness. Coast to coast the thickest. Most feeling the sickness, sensation, as we work invisible plantations. Producing more by-products than cans of Ken-L-ration. Peep “TV Nation”. You’ll catch a glimpse of hypocrisy, sprinkled with whimsy thinly veiling how they’re pimpin’ we. It’s simply horse caca, papa, conundrum. Resist in hardship or grabbin’ the money and run. Honey it’s been spun. This tangled web we’re weaving. Deceive to survive. Stay alive to achieve. (CHORUS) “See he don’t puff weed!” - But I still get down. “Son he never push work!” - But I still get down. “You’ll never catch him Moetin’!” - But I still get down. King Af !! - “Strictly raw dawg Hip Hop sound!” From dusk to dawn I’m peeping the fronts bein’ born But I’m takin’ it to task to mend the black minds torn. Traversing terra firma. Armed with a mental burner. Turning handicapped soldiers to accelerated learners. If it’s concerning King Af, 360 conscious. Seek these degrees when auditing my sponsors. Check the “wanteds”. I’ve been on the job. I’m never the slob. My occupation’s awakening patrons to wanna-be gods. I told you that, way back in last lines of madness. They’re not the vast universe just makers of the human hearse. The human curse afflicting us like psychosis. They swear they’re precocious but all they wanna do is smoke us. You’re busy playin’ like players do. I ain’t hatin’ you. Just working at being an owner when the day is through! I gotta quote the Sheep, “The choice is yours!!” Walk the earth as a king or crawl across on fours! (CHORUS) As you’re discovering from the hook, I cease to spark up trees. I’m never retailing “keys”. I’m never swiggin’ Don P! Relax cousin, I’m keepin’ the knowledge buzzin’ like a massive concussion. Beats are raw like muslin. Not a Muslim but I can get ya’ hyper. Universal truth is complimenting the cipher. Never, been said, that Af’s, the ultimate man, I just plan, to get ‘em open in Japan. Au—stralia, China, Europe, Saudi Arabia. Baggin’ the cabbage and jettin’ straight back to Africa. By that I’m meaning; Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens, -- Staten and Manhattan, L.I., Jersey – SEEN!! Your ghetto clichés are played like Tron. So don your fireproof suits. Af’s about to flame on. I’m takin’ it to the next. Raw Text I endorse. Using mental when it’s mental. Force when it’s force. (CHORUS)

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