Mos Def

Mos Def - Got songtekst

Je score:

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
Vind dit lied op:
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Copyrights:

Auteur: Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Dante Smith

Componist: ?

Publisher: Rawkus Records

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1999

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Black on Both Sides (1999)

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