Got Yourself
Nas Lyrics


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[Intro]
Woke up this mornin', (yeah)
You got yo'self a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got yo'self a gun

[Nas]
Yo, I'm livin' in this time behind enemy lines
So...

[Chorus]
I got mine, I hope you (got yo'self a gun)
You from the hood I hope you (got yo'self a gun)
You want beef? I hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
And when I see you I'ma take what I want
So, you tried to front, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
You ain't real, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)

[Verse 1]
My, first album had no famous guest appearances
The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this professional level
Why would you question who's better? The world is still mine
Tattoos real with "God's Son" across the belly
The boss of rap, you saw me in "Belly" with thoughts like that
To take it back to Africa, I did it with Biggie
Me and Tupac were soldiers of the same struggle
You lames should huddle, your team's shook
Y'all feel the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football field
Throwin' passes from a barrel, shoulder pads apparel
But the Q.B. don't stand for no quarterback
Every word is like a sawed-off blast, 'cause y'all all soft
And I'm the black hearse that came to haul y'all ass in
It's for the hood by the corner store
Many try, many die, come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Yo, I'm the N the A to the S-I-R
And If I wasn't, I must've been Escobar
You know the kid got his chipped tooth fixed
Hair parted with a barber's preciseness; Bravehearted for life
It's the return of the Golden Child, son of a blue's player
So who are you playa? Y'all awaited the true savior
Puffin' that tropical, cups of that Vodka too
Papi chu', tore up, wake up in a hospital
Throw up? Never, 'member I do this through righteous steps
You Judists thought I was gone, so in light of my death
Y'all been all happy-go-lucky, bunch of sambos
Call me "God's Son", with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey Pablo
This is Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow
Flip the beat back, now it's all reppin'
Hit the record sto', never let me go, get my whole collection, yo

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
It's, the, return of the Prince, the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist gliss, I floss
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter Porsche
With the top cut off, rich kids go and cop The Source
They don't know about the blocks I'm on
And everybody wanna know where the kid go? Where he rest at?
Where he shop at and dress at?
Know he got dough, where does he live? Is he still in the bridge?
Does he really know how ill that he is?
Got all of y'all watchin' my moves, my watch and my jewels
Hop in my coupe, dodge interviews like that
It's not only my jewels, ice anything, plenty chains
Look at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Who am I? The back-twister, lingerie-ripper
Automatic leg-spreader, quicker brain-getter
Keepin' it gangsta wit' ya, uh





[Chorus 2x]

Overall Meaning

The song "Got Yourself a Gun" by Nas ft. Dr. Dre is a reflection of the violent world that the artists live in. Nas talks about living behind enemy lines and the need for self-protection. He encourages everyone to arm themselves and defend their lives. He goes on to talk about his achievements in the music industry and why he is the best lyricist. Nas also addresses his critics and those who want to start a beef with him, warning them to be careful.


The chorus repeats the phrase "got yourself a gun" several times, emphasizing the importance of having a weapon. Nas's lyrics are full of metaphors and wordplays, but the underlying message is clear. The song is a commentary on the state of society and the need for people to protect themselves in a dangerous world.


Overall, "Got Yourself a Gun" is a powerful song that showcases Nas's lyrical abilities and his views on the world. With Dr. Dre's production, the song is able to reach a wider audience and make a deeper impact.


Line by Line Meaning

Woke up this mornin', (yeah)
I woke up today like any other day


You got yo'self a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
You have armed yourself with protection


Got yo'self a gun
You have acquired a firearm for your own security


Yo, I'm livin' in this time behind enemy lines
I am currently living among those who are against me


So...
Therefore...


I got mine, I hope you (got yo'self a gun)
I have taken steps to protect myself, I hope you have done the same


You from the hood I hope you (got yo'self a gun)
If you are from my neighborhood, I hope you have also acquired a firearm


You want beef? I hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
If you are looking for trouble, I hope you are prepared to defend yourself


And when I see you I'ma take what I want
If I come across you, I will take what I desire by force


So, you tried to front, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
If you attempt to challenge me, I hope you have armed yourself


You ain't real, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
If you are fake, I hope you have armed yourself for when you are found out


My, first album had no famous guest appearances
My debut album did not have any notable features from other artists


The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist
As a result, I am now recognized as the greatest rapper


Many years on this professional level
I have been in the rap game for a long time


Why would you question who's better? The world is still mine
Why bother comparing, I am still on top of the game


Tattoos real with "God's Son" across the belly
I have a tattoo that reads "God's Son" across my stomach


The boss of rap, you saw me in "Belly" with thoughts like that
I am the leader of the rap industry, as exemplified in my role in the movie "Belly"


To take it back to Africa, I did it with Biggie
I made a statement to return to my African roots, with the help of Biggie


Me and Tupac were soldiers of the same struggle
Tupac and I fought for the same cause


You lames should huddle, your team's shook
You weak individuals should stick together because you are scared


Y'all feel the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football field
You will experience the rage of a murderer, as though you are on my turf


Throwin' passes from a barrel, shoulder pads apparel
I am throwing bullets from my gun, dressed in protective gear


But the Q.B. don't stand for no quarterback
The QB on my jersey does not refer to football


Every word is like a sawed-off blast, 'cause y'all all soft
Everything I say hits like a shotgun because you are all weak


And I'm the black hearse that came to haul y'all ass in
I am the vehicle that will transport your dead bodies


It's for the hood by the corner store
This song is dedicated to the neighborhood on the corner


Many try, many die, come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody, uh
Many have attempted to challenge me and did not survive, come at me if you want a conflict, it will result in violence


Yo, I'm the N the A to the S-I-R
I spell my name 'Nasir' shortened as Nas


And If I wasn't, I must've been Escobar
If I wasn't Nas, I would have been like notorious drug lord Pablo Escobar


You know the kid got his chipped tooth fixed
You know I got my tooth fixed


Hair parted with a barber's preciseness; Bravehearted for life
My hair is styled perfectly by my barber, and I continue to be courageous


It's the return of the Golden Child, son of a blue's player
I am the return of the prodigal child, whose father was a blues musician


So who are you playa? Y'all awaited the true savior
Who are you to question me? You have been anticipating my arrival


Puffin' that tropical, cups of that Vodka too
I am smoking a strong type of marijuana and drinking vodka


Papi chu', tore up, wake up in a hospital
I am heavily intoxicated, potentially leading to a hospitalization


Throw up? Never, 'member I do this through righteous steps
I never vomit, I handle my drugs through appropriate means


You Judists thought I was gone, so in light of my death
You thought I was dead but now that I am alive


Y'all been all happy-go-lucky, bunch of sambos
You all seem content, like a bunch of racist caricatures


Call me "God's Son", with my pants low
They call me "God's Son" and I wear my pants low


I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey Pablo
I do not die slowly, I will fight until the end like Petey Pablo


This is Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow
I am successful, owning Nasdaq dough, and rapping with my trademark style


Flip the beat back, now it's all reppin'
The beat has switched, but I will still represent and rap


Hit the record sto', never let me go, get my whole collection, yo
Go to the record store and buy my entire album collection, do not let me down


It's, the, return of the Prince, the boss
It is my comeback, as the Prince of rap and the leader


This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's soft
My style is true hardcore rap, unlike Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit


Sip Cris', get chips, wrist gliss, I floss
I drink champagne, make money, wear expensive jewelry, and show off


Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter Porsche
I drive a Porsche Boxter, looking cool with my stick shift


With the top cut off, rich kids go and cop The Source
I drive with the top off, as rich kids go buy The Source magazine


They don't know about the blocks I'm on
They do not realize the streets I come from


And everybody wanna know where the kid go? Where he rest at?
Everyone wants to know where I am and where I spend my time


Where he shop at and dress at?
They want to know where I shop and what clothes I wear


Know he got dough, where does he live? Is he still in the bridge?
They know I have money, but do not know where I reside


Does he really know how ill that he is?
Do I truly understand how talented I am?


Got all of y'all watchin' my moves, my watch and my jewels
You are all keeping an eye on me, tracking my movements and looking at my jewelry


Hop in my coupe, dodge interviews like that
I ride in my car and avoid interviews quickly


It's not only my jewels, ice anything, plenty chains
Not only my jewelry, but everything is icy and shiny


Look at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Even my tennis shoes have ice, they are that expensive


Who am I? The back-twister, lingerie-ripper
Who am I? I am a lover who likes to bend and twist, and rip lingerie


Automatic leg-spreader, quicker brain-getter
I quickly spread legs, and quickly acquire people's attention with my intelligence


Keepin' it gangsta wit' ya, uh
I am maintaining my gangster persona with you all


Chorus 2x
Repeats the chorus again




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Comments from YouTube:

@suinegCarter

If You are listening to this in 2024. You have an impeccable music taste.

@rs-28sarmat49

I got mine I hope you got yourself

@user-rz6lg6ms5c

Every Year:)

@katzumihanzo5471

🙌🏼🙌🏼

@lonnmutta2073

am listening

@1FanofTHEECOSYSTEM

I came here SPECIFICALLY coz K-Dot woke up on some "woke up this morning! you got yourself.." HISTORY on repeat.

3 More Replies...

@wadzorwachirashi3961

This Guy deserves a statue....this is Rap Music....Timeless

@rwarren4637

Bruh! Preach!✊🏿

@lexg3607

Facts!!!!!

@SheepdogColumbus

hip hop...

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