Got Lyrics by 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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