Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Got, artist - Mos Def. Album song Black On Both Sides, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rawkus Entertainment
Song language: English
Got |
Some cats really like to, you know… |
Profile and front. |
And then the jooks go down, all at once they like… |
Don’t get mad |
Don’t get mad |
Don’t g-g-g-g-g-get mad (repeat 3x) |
You’re out on the block hustling at the spot… |
GOT, this is how you get Got… |
At the gamblin’spot and your hand is mad hot… |
GOT, this is how you get Got… |
Out in Brooklyn late night flashing all of your rocks… |
GOT, this is how you get Got… |
Some girl from pink house said I like you a lot… |
GOT, this is how you get Got… |
This one goes to all them Big Will cats |
With ice on they limbs and big rims on they Ac You goin’around town with your system bump |
And your windows cracked low to profile and front |
Now I like to have nice things just like you |
But I’m from Brooklyn, certain shit you just don’t do Like, high postin’when you far from home |
Or like, high postin’when you all alone |
Now, this would seem to be clear common sense |
But, cats be livin’off, sheer confidence |
Like Fuck that, picture them tellin’me run that |
But acting invincible, just ain’t sensible |
It’s nineteen ninety-now, and there’s certain individuals |
Swear they rollin’hard and get robbed on principle |
5 star general, flashin’on your revenue |
You takin’a ride on the Downstate medical, Like (whooooooo) |
Colorful sparks, yellow and blue |
A full on attack and it’s happening to you |
Wit’nothing you can do but bust back and cop a plea |
But five of them and one of you, that equals Got to me… |
Don’t get mad |
Don’t get mad |
Don’t g-g-g-g-g-get mad (repeat 3x) |
Come on ya’ll now, let’s be real |
Some jokers got a rough time keepin’it concealed |
I wonder what it mean, it’s probably self-esteem |
They fiendin to be seen, get hemmed like Gaberdeens |
Cats think it can’t happen until the gats start clappin |
They comin’down the wire spittin fire like a dragon |
Cause while the goods glisten, certain eyes take position |
To observe your trick, and then catch that ass slippin' |
Like, come on now ock, what you expect? |
Got a month’s paycheck danglin’off your neck |
And while you Cristal sippin', they rubbin’up they mittens |
With heat in mint condition to start the getti-gettin' |
They clique starts creepin’like Sandinistin guerrillas |
You screamin’playa haters, these niggas is playa killers |
Mr. Fash-ion, that style never last long |
The harder you flash, the harder you get flashed on There’s hunger in the street that is hard to defeat |
Many steal for sport, but more steal to eat |
Cat’s heavy at the weigh-in, and he’s playin’for keeps |
Don’t sleep, they’ll roll up in your passengers seat |
There is universal law, whether rich or poor |
Some say life’s a game, to more, life is war |
So put them egos to the side and get off them head-trips |
'Fore some cats pull out them heaters and make you head-less… |
Don’t get mad |
Don’t get mad |
Don’t g-g-g-g-g-get mad (repeat 3x) |