Tom: A minor•
Verse 1
Greeks and the
Creeks
F
G
It's an old deep rock classic, nigga
Greeks and the
Creeks
You thought you could stand
E
before your hands from your feet
From a band or a beat,
Am
we would stand on the street
With our hands on our feet
E
Twelve grams, twelve feet away,
balled up in a sheet
A
Am
Reynolds rap, one smack,
needs a dental vac
E
Your voice get quiet like the
voice in an instrumental track
Am
Sick from the litmus, son
G
Sit the city as my voice unfolds
With the soul of the whispers
Am
On the block we rock loud like the pistols
E
Up in the crib I wear a jacket and a
Harvey's
Bristol
E
you ask me artificial I blow holes in skin like
Big
Nose use 90's tissue
Am
They call me jerk when the
dollar dollar bill is on
Am
upgrade to the silicone
That's worth the four billion,
eight hundred million
E
It's not official till I snack
Am
the devil you silly on
From the valleys of
Ohio to the sands of
E
Cairo
Am
G
Still hit like the road when
King of
Rio
Am
Zig -zag, zig -a -log,
still puzzled like the jigsaw
You renege, you get jigsawed
F
Deep
Rock
Am
We bogart the road like
trucks on a turnpike
Am
E
see what it burns like
Am
Architectural design, intellectual rhyme,
Moving on a diagonal line,
Scholars they want the books back,
E
the peace they turn to salt the moment they look back
Am
The castle in position made weak
by a winged pawn
the pressure we bring on
Am
They fired all their shots and the
rhymes were mad flares
many posted on bad squares
the queen's the snare
E
The bass are minor pieces
that move in a pair
Am
Quick to break through,
an unparalleled opponent
at any given moment
those who make the saga continue
G
Before you check the credits,
the sword is all in you
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