Lyrics for 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 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)