"Git Up"

The song Git Up from the D12World album has a lot of energic beats.
Although the words are mostly offensive, it creates an enthousiastic athmosphere and its a real pleasure to listen to it.
Kon Artis descibes the song as pure adrenaline:

Em created a track that is just pure adrenaline. We just went in the studio and tried to destroy whatever people might think about D12. Any backlash that Em has to deal with from the press we go through together. D12 is more than a group, were brothers.

There is a lot of solidarity inside of the D12 group and all 6 members strongly fight against the press usual stereotypes.
You will probably enjoy Eminems rapid flow in the song and the way he plays with similar sounds. Eminem perfectly knows how to handle the same assonances inside of rhyme like a real poet does.
The D12 criminals are far from being ordinary club visitors, they have no hidden intentions. They are trouble makers who will enjoy seeing the situation escalating. They will take you by surprise, whether you like it or not.
Eminems introduction makes us think about bullets flying from a pistol. You wont escape to them. A crazed Slim Shady will shoot his words at you:

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Ready or not here we come, here comes trouble in the club
11, 12, 13, pistols big as M 16’s
How the fuck we sneak in with this many heaters in our jeans
Nina, 2 nina’s, a peace and they dont even see us
Some shit pops off we squeeze each one they gon’ think its machine guns
Vanos vo vano, bananas in our flannels
Hands around our colt handles, hold them like roman candles
Vannas vo vannas, banana fanna fo fannas
Who come back all bananas, banna clips loaded
Managers, bouncers and the club owners, the motherfuckers dont want us
To come up and rush in the club and run up in it with a bunch of
Motherfuckers from Runyan, steady poppin them onions,
Ready set to go nut up, prepare to tear the whole club up
Fixin to get into some shit just itchin to choke someone up
You know we finna loc’n when we mixin coke with coke and nut rum up
Yeah Yeah oh, what up, see my people throw shit up
See you talk that hoe shit now when you down you dont get up
And can’t sit up your so slit up, the ambulance wont sew you up
They just throw you up in the trunk once they tag your big toe up
Heater no heater, automatic no matic
Mac or no mac it dont matter if I have or dont have it
You never know what im packin’ so you just dont want no static
And open up a whole can of whoop ass you dont wanna chance to
Risk it no biscuit, mili mac a mac milli
Really homie dont be silly, homie you dont know me really
You’re just gonna make yourself dizzy wonderin what the dealy
Fuck it lets just get busy D Twizzys back up in the hizzy!

His fellows soldiers from Runyan Ave are ready to back him and to start trouble as quickly as possible. Swiftys words are a dangerous bomb that will make you explode instantly. He will leave you with no breath and disconnect your soul:

I keep a shit load of bullets a pitpull to pull it out
And automatically explode on motherfuckers until they mouth be closed permanently
You get burned until i quickly you can not hit me niggaz to terrified to come get me,
Tempt me if you think Swifty won’t send a slug, people run,
When the reaper comes, the repercussions’ gon’ leak your blood,
Inglewood, steepin’ without a weapon, you leave, you gone,
I’m still runnin’ with stolen toasters while on parole,
Snatch you out our home, like eviction notices hoe,
When I unload, I’m known to never leave witnesses to roam,
When I’m blowed, I’ll write the wicked in scroll,
At the toll, when I’m sober I’m prone to roll up and disconnect your soul, nigga.

There is a message in Git Up. It also targets many negative press critics. Eminem warns his critics and enemies to stop hating.
The reasons why they keep hating is due, most of the time to a great misunderstanding of their words. Kuniva will put things clear. He is well weaponed to definitly shut your mouth:

Now it’s proven it’s about to be a misunderstanding
In furniture moving, bullets flying, lawyers & mothers suing
Cause niggas don’t know the difference, you bitches just stick to fiction
It’s sickening, you can’t even walk in my jurisdiction rippin’ it,
Grippin’ the pump and who wanna fuck with a walking psychopathic
Pyromaniac shady cats with 80 gats
And maybe thats the reason that you gon’ get it the worst a
And since you jumpin’ in front of everybody you gon’ get it first
I dispurse the crowd with something vigor and versatile
So go on and record you verses now while you got a mouth,
And it’s not a joke, it’s some kind of riddle,
Kunizzle will lift up a 12 gizzle and throw a party from my equittle,
And a glock that you stop you from waking,
Bullets’ll hit your liver, I’ll even shoot native americans,
A Indian Nigga, we back in you life and back in your wife,
Hit you in the back with a knife and get it crackin’ tonight.

Git Up is a well written track where Eminem, Swifty and Kunivas lyrical talents are enlightened.

“Git Up”

[Eminem – Chorus]
Git Up Now!
Lets get it crackin, Git, Its on and poppin
Its D12 is back up in this bitch, uh, there aint no stoppin
We’re gonna get it crackalatin
What you waitin for the waiters orders
Say no more fo tryin to play the wall and quit hatin
Git Up Now!
Notice you’re sittin, what the fuck is you deaf
You motherfuckers dont listen, I said,
We bout to get this motherfucker crackalatin’
Quit, procrastinatin’
What the fuck you waitin for get off the wall and quit hatin

[Swift]
I keep a shit load of bullets a pitpull to pull it out
And automatically explode on motherfuckers until they mouth be closed permanently
You get burned until i quickly you can not hit me niggaz to terrified to come get me,
Tempt me if you think Swifty won’t send a slug, people run,
When the reaper comes, the repercussions’ gon’ leak your blood,
Inglewood, steepin’ without a weapon, you leave, you gone,
I’m still runnin’ with stolen toasters while on parole,
Snatch you out our home, like eviction notices hoe,
When I unload, I’m known to never leave witnesses to roam,
When I’m blowed, I’ll write the wicked in scroll,
At the toll, when I’m sober I’m prone to roll up and disconnect your soul, nigga.

[Kuniva]
Now it’s proven it’s about to be a misunderstanding
In furniture moving, bullets flying, lawyers & mothers suing
Cause niggas don’t know the difference, you bitches just stick to fiction
It’s sickening, you can’t even walk in my jurisdiction rippin’ it,
Grippin’ the pump and who wanna fuck with a walking psychopathic
Pyromaniac shady cats with 80 gats
And maybe thats the reason that you gon’ get it the worst a
And since you jumpin’ in front of everybody you gon’ get it first
I dispurse the crowd with something vigor and versatile
So go on and record you verses now while you got a mouth,
And it’s not a joke, it’s some kind of riddle,
Kunizzle will lift up a 12 gizzle and throw a party from my equittle,
And a glock that you stop you from waking,
Bullets’ll hit your liver, I’ll even shoot native americans,
A Indian Nigga, we back in you life and back in your wife,
Hit you in the back with a knife and get it crackin’ tonight.