"Gotta Get Mine" as written by and Junior/carter Giscombe....
Mama she used to say, don't live by your knife
Mama she used to say, gotta get out the ghetto
Mama she used to say, morning comes and goes
Mama she don't know, I gotta get mine whoa, gotta get, mine

I'm livin' in the age of di chronic, forty ounce and blunts
The type of decent women allah know ah stunts
Now I got to wear Versace just to get a gal to watch me
It ain't no sunshine, how can I get mine?
Why I sell myself for modern day slavery?
Now I'm doin' LP's for 5cent royalties
Mama can ya save ya son? All these leeches over me
Feel like gathering my duns, gettin' all our guns
Count down 3, 2, 1, come down Mad Lion!

(Mad lion) yo yo roll a spliff, what, yeah!
Di night is young, We all got our guns
Who's down to go commit a robbery? A robbery
I gotcha block on lock soliciting private stocks of trees
Direct in boat from di West Indies
Jamaica, experience it just break ya
Smoke it inna ya blunts, Philly leaves are ya paper
I tell it, into my sensimilla place, my bodega
Here I got all type of flavor
Distribution major, no dealer can match me equal
Niggas buy my mixes, sell it as dimes to the people

Mama she used to say, don't live by your knife
Mama she used to say, gotta get out the ghetto
Mama she used to say, morning comes and goes
But, Mama she don't know, I gotta get mine whoa, gotta get, mine

Well den, huh!
When I was six I received my nines as a birthday gift
Pray ya Lord if ya see my nines
It's enough to make any grown man cry,
Now mama neva' tell me policeman would arrest me
Even though I without coach, me
an den try ti warn me ?
Dem ever get swole me, recruit me to di army guy tell me
I found out these things by my lonely. Well, well
X amount of things lead to see ya get dead
Livin' on dem greed ya get shot, knot dem face
Dem wanna lose dem life an weh say willed argument
Dey body all up pulpit cement, well well.

? get sense in a fuckin' situation
Everybody know say I man nev' run from provocation
The way things are run now the yout up inna possession
Fuck around an us buck dem inna point on, black Talon

Mama she used to say, don't live by your knife
Mama she used to say, gotta get out the ghetto
Mama she used to say, morning comes and goes
Mama she don't know, I gotta get mine whoa, gotta get, mine


Lyrics submitted by convince

"Gotta Get Mine" as written by Horace Payne Norman Howell

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY

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