Tom: Bb major
Verse 1
G#
Gm
Ab
Bbm
Ab
Gm
C
H- A- V- O,
B
Ab
I'm iller, rocking over Dilla
F#
Paint a picture clearer than a mirror
Ab
I come from that era where
Lyrics counting for something,
C
careers got shattered now
Everybody's rock stars,
who am I to knock 'em though
Daring something, if you do,
you fall like a domino
F#
Ab
Smoke a little tropical,
But I been stopped laughing
a long time ago
head knocked off shoulders
Everytime I spit,
Am
Gm
it's like I put the game to the cobra
Babies to the game it's I'm
Ab
Gm
pushing they strollers
Coming at me sideways,
they in a rush to get older
Gm
Am
I ain't playing with them, no,
C
Gm
I wake 'em up like Folgers
F#
Gm
I'm a general, believe that,
C
ya'll nothing but soldiers
F#
C
Like Cee, I'm a finisher,
Am
C
I'm about my business
Verse 2
Gm
Don't worry bout me, homey,
C
Gm
mind your business
Cuz this is grown folks business
Nothing to do with you,
so just mind your business
F#
C
All day, every day, about my business
Gm
C
Niggas keep talking, I'mma pop the cuit
Am
C
have your brain leaking that liquid
Gm
C
Sit back, enjoy, the flow
Verse 3
Gm
C
Yo, we project livers, lick that liver
B
C
Run with a bag of cash
and flip that wig up
Won't deny it, holding iron,
C
Catch you with nine keys, supplying
F#
C
Come to my town, strap up
Gm
Am
Underground kings with the crown,
C
black down and blacked up
F#
C
Reefer is the greatest, paid us, Las Vegas,
Everything on my wrist, Swiss made
Run up in the Gucci shop, Glock warm,
Gm
give me the Crys' suade
C
Everybody living to get paid
Everybody make it out the hood,
Gm
or get sprayed or get grazed
C
Am
Yeah, yo, my style is trifyn'
C
Come tear it down, I might sing
Gm
C
Gm
only my writing hand with bright lens
Interlude 1
With seal, baby bro
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
F#
C
Gm
C
Gm
Verse 4
A- V- O
Dudes get popped,
snitches sing like Ne- Yo
Am
That's why you always catch me
F#
Police putting pressure,
Can't fuck with em, puff on that piff
B
C
watch for the landmines
Run but you can't hide,
Homicide,
C
know about you, but I got mines
Grind like the gears on a
Porsche, I'm so driven
Foot to the pedal, I'm heavy footed,
No gimmick, what you see is what you get it
No skinny jeans,
only thing fitting is my fitted
Knowhatimean? Some of
ya'll won't get it
C
Gm
I do my own thing, hold to my pivet
C
Yeah, life can be a bitch, but we live it
Gm
C
Gm
To the fullest, niggas just made cuz we chilling
Outro 1
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
F#
C
Am
C
Gm
Am
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
F#
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
Am
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Am
C
Am
C
Am
C
B
Am
C
Am
C
B
C
Am
C
Fm
C
C#
C
Fm
C
Db
C
B
Em
Bm
C
Em
C
Am
Bm
C
Am
Bm
B
C
Am
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesG# Gm Ab Bbm C...
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