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Mos Def - Got lyrics
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 alot"... 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 fool 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 fiending to be seen, get hymned like Aberdeen 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 |
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