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letra de don't get it - moskidzo

[chorus]
telling me that you’re hot boy (hot boy)
but i see that you’re not boy (not boy)
i know you need what we got boy
but you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it, you don’t get it, you don’t get it
oh yo, you’re the greatest, with oh so many haters
you keep saying the same sh-t, but after all you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it, you don’t get it, you don’t get it do ya?

[verse 1]
in the club wit’cha crew, strapped to your chest with the most m-ssive shooters, i know (woooh!)
ain’t looking for trouble but won’t hesitate for a moment to use ‘em, i know
oh my god, everybody better run when you’re ‘bout to lose it, i know
then ya song coming on like “man, this is the biggest bullsh-t i know!”
i should be treading a tricycle for that you’re thinking that this was a game, boy
i should be jacking off to a magazine pretending i came to play, boy
oh the circ-mstances worsen, l to the o, moskidzo, cursive
will go nuts with your permission, so pop some pills if you’re allergic
yep, take a step through the doorway higher than led zeppelin performing
cramping cheeks and benzos will strengthen your empathy ‘till you tremble
shaky knees, awkward barstool wiggling, both hands cold sweated
silently begging you’ll survive the side effects
and get your respect

[bridge 1]
but you don’t get it do ya? still don’t get it do ya?
try so hard to be so hard, but you don’t get it do ya?
but don’t let ‘em fool ya, it’s only a rumor
you gon’ get it, just roll with it and hope they approve ya!

[verse 2]
they forgot about things, they see the popular trends
wanna be one in a mill (ching), they copping lottery tickets
you gotta be kidding, these motherf-ckers just want a mill?
you better split like a comma kid, i’m a wandering donna summer hit (hot stuff baby)
you’re selling dope for the dollar bill, well, that’s not a problem ‘till
i was knocking at your door when you were supposed to be out there on your own
slanging dough to some college kids
but you just sit at home wit’cha pops watching kim possible at your momma crib (oh my god, oh my god!)
no need to be sherlock holmes, i’m a competent gynecologist
listening to doctor octagon wit’ a boombox in a rocket ship bumping 2pacalypse, spitting at you like alpacca lips (-spit-)
this sh-t is sriracha on stiffler’s momma’s t-ts

[bridge 2]
now you don’t get it do ya? still don’t get it do ya?
wanna show off, but your show soft and you don’t get it do ya?
you can’t get the clue, huh? you ain’t in the mood to?
tryna pay dues, gotta stay true, now your credit due huh?!

[chorus]
telling me that you’re hot boy (hot boy)
but i see that you’re not boy (not boy)
i know you need what we got boy (got boy!)
but you don’t get it do ya? (nah!)
you don’t get it do ya? (nah!)
you don’t get it do ya? (hey!)
you don’t get it, you don’t get it, you don’t get it (what!)
oh yo, you’re the greatest, with oh so many haters (what!)
you keep saying the same sh-t, but after all you don’t get it do ya?
you don’t get it do ya? (hey!)
you don’t get it do ya? (uh oh…)
you don’t get it, you don’t get it, you don’t get it do ya?

- moskidzo

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