| Some cats really like to, you know…
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| Profile and front.
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| And then the jooks go down, all at once they like…
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| Don’t get mad
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| Don’t get mad
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| Don’t g-g-g-g-g-get mad (repeat 3x)
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| You’re out on the block hustling at the spot…
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| GOT, this is how you get Got…
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| At the gamblin’spot and your hand is mad hot…
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| GOT, this is how you get Got…
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| Out in Brooklyn late night flashing all of your rocks…
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| GOT, this is how you get Got…
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| Some girl from pink house said I like you a lot…
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| GOT, this is how you get Got…
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| This one goes to all them Big Will cats
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| With ice on they limbs and big rims on they Ac You goin’around town with your system bump
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| And your windows cracked low to profile and front
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| Now I like to have nice things just like you
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| But I’m from Brooklyn, certain shit you just don’t do Like, high postin’when you far from home
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| Or like, high postin’when you all alone
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| Now, this would seem to be clear common sense
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| But, cats be livin’off, sheer confidence
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| Like Fuck that, picture them tellin’me run that
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| But acting invincible, just ain’t sensible
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| It’s nineteen ninety-now, and there’s certain individuals
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| Swear they rollin’hard and get robbed on principle
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| 5 star general, flashin’on your revenue
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| You takin’a ride on the Downstate medical, Like (whooooooo)
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| Colorful sparks, yellow and blue
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| A full on attack and it’s happening to you
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| Wit’nothing you can do but bust back and cop a plea
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| But five of them and one of you, that equals Got to me…
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| Don’t get mad
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| Don’t get mad
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| Don’t g-g-g-g-g-get mad (repeat 3x)
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| Come on ya’ll now, let’s be real
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| Some jokers got a rough time keepin’it concealed
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| I wonder what it mean, it’s probably self-esteem
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| They fiendin to be seen, get hemmed like Gaberdeens
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| Cats think it can’t happen until the gats start clappin
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| They comin’down the wire spittin fire like a dragon
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| Cause while the goods glisten, certain eyes take position
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| To observe your trick, and then catch that ass slippin'
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| Like, come on now ock, what you expect?
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| Got a month’s paycheck danglin’off your neck
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| And while you Cristal sippin', they rubbin’up they mittens
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| With heat in mint condition to start the getti-gettin'
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| They clique starts creepin’like Sandinistin guerrillas
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| You screamin’playa haters, these niggas is playa killers
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| Mr. Fash-ion, that style never last long
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| The harder you flash, the harder you get flashed on There’s hunger in the street that is hard to defeat
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| Many steal for sport, but more steal to eat
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| Cat’s heavy at the weigh-in, and he’s playin’for keeps
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| Don’t sleep, they’ll roll up in your passengers seat
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| There is universal law, whether rich or poor
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| Some say life’s a game, to more, life is war
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| So put them egos to the side and get off them head-trips
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| 'Fore some cats pull out them heaters and make you head-less…
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| Don’t get mad
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| Don’t get mad
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| Don’t g-g-g-g-g-get mad (repeat 3x) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Got , by - Mos Def. Song from the album Black On Both Sides, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп