About the song
A story for this song hasn’t been added yet.
Words from the artist’s archive
Got 'Em lyrics
Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.
Read the lyric sheet
Intro
Another night posted on cold-ass concrete, Chasin' that grail, can't get beat.
Verse 1
Phone glow the only light in the trap, Sidewalk sneaker fiends, we strapped. Tenth refresh on SNKRS, fingers crampin', New era digital war, we campin'. Sleepin' bag zipped, hood up, eyes low, Win or L, either way we go. Word on the block 'bout a shock drop hittin', Under streetlights, no quittin'.
Pre-chorus
Clock hit ten, pulse racin' wild, This the lick for all the clout, no child.
Chorus
GOT 'EM! GOT 'EM! Screen pop green, that's the W we see. FRESH HEAT! FRESH HEAT! Level up, now they envy me. Size locked, last pair snatched! Floatin' on air, no cap, we matched!
Verse 2
"Size 11 sold out" red flash, panic hit, Thumb game vicious, I ain't never quit. Cart cleared quick, no bots, straight hands, Confirmation ping, holy grail in my plans. Now strollin' back block, box tucked tight, Most wanted kicks in the city tonight.
Chorus
GOT 'EM! GOT 'EM! Screen pop green, that's the W we see. FRESH HEAT! FRESH HEAT! Level up, now they envy me. Size locked, last pair snatched! Floatin' on air, no cap, we matched!
Bridge
Unboxin' like church, sacred rite, Pop the lid, new life ignite. That fresh factory funk, chemical high, Sealed from the plug, no lie.
Verse 3
Laces looped tight, perfect fit, Elite squad only, we the shit. Hit the pavement, different stomp, echo loud, Steppin' holy, own the crowd. Every stride a flex, confidence burst, New aura drippin', quench the thirst. Energy wild, can't hold it back, King shit ordained, that's a fact.
Chorus
GOT 'EM! GOT 'EM! Screen pop green, that's the W we see. FRESH HEAT! FRESH HEAT! Level up, now they envy me. Size locked, last pair snatched! Floatin' on air, no cap, we matched!
Outro
Box fresh. Streets next. Game cooked. No contest.
Inside the recording
Another night posted on cold-ass concrete, Chasin' that grail, can't get beat.
Clock hit ten, pulse racin' wild, This the lick for all the clout, no child.
Box fresh. Streets next. Game cooked. No contest.
Excerpts from artist-supplied lyric files matched by title. Lyric sheets may differ from the released performance.