Tom: C minor•
Verse 1
I here we go a little freestyle session
to end off the night for y 'all
We about to get out of here
Bb
and hit up the clubs and Chico
Cm
Now let me know talk here hit it up now
You better put the pedal to the
metal with smash smash
and they can follow me follow me now
Cm
I'll take you to the road road,
but now here we go.
Bb
Cm
Okay fuck with a nigga talk
Can't see I'm gonna hit you off the dome
G
Cm
with the flow shit hit you up with calicoes
and all the other
Metal shit get down
Bm
G
put the pedal to the metal on
Bb
I'm sideways on that ass.
G
Cm
They fucking mr. Mr. Can -G,
G
I get gone off the O -English
Cm
So, man, for sure I was off the hook
Ready to hit some niggas
in this motherfucker
G
Cm
Off the dough, so, with the flows of ghosts
Bb
Cm
Oh, shit, I'm drunk and
then a motherfucker in this bitch
Mr. Can, leave your brain on freeze
Bb
Shit all about my cheddar cheese
Cm
Niggas don't know about this
Bm
motherfucker
Southside G
this motherfucking bitch
Please, can't even ride
Shit, man, can't even stop and pause
Can't even holla at a nigga like you
G
Cause you got a dirty mouth
Cm
Nigga, you probably got a bitch
with dirty drawers
Givin' up a head
to every nigga in the clique
Cm
I'm off the head with some bullshit
Bb
Boy, I'll give it to you raw
Cm
G
Cm
G
Bb
I'm a -
Cm
G
Cm
Cm
bring the pain like the candy man
Don't you understand
you should've ran from the boogeyman
The bass pumpin' and the
heart up in the Ebby, man
No matter if you Mexican or if you Asian
G
Cm
Bb
But something smell foul like a trash can
Cm
Better take out that trash,
Where you can hit somebody
Shit will end in a minute man
G
Cm
See my mind is animated like a cartoon
Bb
Cm
Better shoot more straighter
than a heart poon
I used to try to shoot straight to the moon
Now my thoughts go beyond
just past Neptune
G
Cm
I need to put food on the fucking table
I think I'm able,
I stay strapped like Clark Gable
Now what's the cream,
I don't wanna hear no fucking fable
I might clean the stable on my 9
G
and leave that ass disabled
Cm
Yeah, funk beta, funk beta,
who we got next?
The brother Lynch,
G
Cm
hung steppin' up to the mic
Let it be known
Do we got it?
Do we got it?
You're on
G
Alright, I just never know
Put you in the choke hold
Cold blooded, how it went down
G
Clown niggas ain't round,
I'm in the ground round
Cm
Sur round sound, and these cats with us
In the hallway all day
Put you in the trunk with the slump
G
Diggin' ditches like tooth decay
Cm
I got the busted spread
Bb
Cm
Cause busted be spreadin' like germs
Hook em up like worms
Burn em up like perms
Eb
Used to be off that sherm, fuck it,
Can't control my bad habits,
G
when I see the pussy I stab at it
Cm
With the candy man hook I grab at it,
with the .44 mag I have at it
Automatically clean the static,
stay strapped in traffic
Bb
It's tragic magic how souls leave,
How Maseratis leave, no hope,
Bm
Cm
water or soap, no dope
Eb
I be rollin' dick hard down
pullin' whole cars
It's sick made for life, niggas don't know
But I carry the knife,
and I'm cuttin' out throats
Sittin' here with Rola,
G
and I know the rhymes I wrote will
Cm
Carry me on to the next century
Shots out to my nigga Lowkey
Dub, he on the scrub,
trying to get much love
G
Dubsack and we love that,
yeah my nigga CO
he next on the microphone
Cm
G
and I'm gonna tell you right now,
Cm
I might go home, later on,
ha ha, peace out
Cm
Yeah bro, Lil Chung up in here
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesCm Bb G Bm Eb
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