Got Lyrics - Black On Both Sides - Mos Def

Some cats really like to, you know 

Profile and front 

And then the jooks go down, all at once they like 

Don't get me 

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 me 

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 Gabardines 

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 trickin', 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 Sandinista 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 headless 

Don't get me