Tom: Ab major
Verse 1
something different
right here, man.
I'm gonna let my people
into my rhyme book here real quick.
Alright, let's get this down.
Pull me up that hot New York shit,
man, that we got from high.
Alright, there we go.
Let's go, let's do it.
Just let it play, man.
I'm gonna go ahead
Eb
and spit some shit real quick.
Dm
Eb
G
get on down, on down, on down
G
G
Yeah, come on, uh King's back,
G
papa
Freestyle me up, let's go, let's do it
Uh, let find some dope shit
for you right here.
Now that shit's whack.
Eb
G
Two forty -five snuggles
made out of brass
Eb
G
Push your forehead down
real close to your ass
Eb
G
Push a 2010 bill and
a half on the dash
They thought I was all black
Eb
G
Eb
so you don't see through the glass
G
Nice piece Whitney chromed
out for the shells
Eb
G
The flow's hot so you can say
I'm singing in hell
It's a whole new year
and the champs returned
Eb
So it's time for me to bury them
and watch them burn
G
Eb
G
Last couple years I stayed
out of the game
Cause the last couple years
been so damn lame
And I was just watching, scoping them out
Eb
G
And I figured out I need to clean up house
Eb
G
So daddy got to writing,
fire and lightning
Cause these kids so kink,
without the icing
Pass me the mic,
you won't watch me ice them
First round knockout
like old school Tyson, yeah
Yeah, right, that shit was alright,
Gm
G
man.
Gm
G
Eb
You know, I got better, dawg.
Just turn me up on the
Gm
Eb
headphones a little bit.
Eb
G
Alright, let me find something else.
Gm
G
That's garbage.
Yeah, that's garbage, too.
Alright, here's one.
Let's go.
Eb
G
For those still beefin',
lyin' and cheatin'
Kiss you out and goodbye,
Eb
you'll be done by the weekend
G
Eb
Cause my album here
Eb
The whole hood got it like dirty pistolas
G
Real mexicanos, no pops can bring it
This my full -time job,
even work on the weekends
G
the whole audience steamin'
Eb
For that real rap stuff, only I can bring em
G
Eb
G
I keep you laveros barely breathin'
They change us so much,
that's why I don't believe em
Me, I spit the truth through
Eb
G
all four seasons
Eb
And I can get on smoke without
Eb
G
Open up the phantoms
and push the keys in
G
Eb
G
Pop comin' off so I can let the breeze in
Eb
G
El amigo's creepin',
I'm already squeezin',
G
Gm
G
Gm
G
so nobody's squeezin'
Gm
G
Gm
G
Gm
G
Yo, uh, yo,
Gm
G
Eb
G
I told y 'all the raw stuff was comin'
Rappers hope we're in heaven,
been layin' out, lettin' wire
Eb
G
Pipe and chips in we gotta cut this, man
Eb
G
Eb
Oh yeah, that's right, doggy,
G
we already did that shit, huh?
Eb
G
Alright, we'll find somethin' else
Eb
Got him wearin' us nice,
G
it does his thing so right
Infrared so tight,
Eb
so you ain't safe at night
G
Eb
Copped the Cheezer,
G
copped the Lambo, the 2009
Eb
doin' rhythm and rhyme
G
Eb
G
The flow so hood,
G
Just ain't have the props
that this monster should
Eb
G
Nah, that shit was wack
Eb
My chaparita's gonna pull it,
If it's in my best interest,
Eb
then she's gonna do it
G
Eb
Where's Ben Davis,
Eb
G
Tattoos all over, she get pork star head
Gm
G
Yeah my girl, she's the thug, homie,
she show me love, homie
Got her own canton,
Gm
G
workin' drugs for me
Gm
G
And she just got my name on her neck
G
In Vegas, block letters, C -A -P -S,
G
Eb
man I respect the dame
G
Buy every seat at the Lakers game
Eb
G
And when I go on tour,
she chalk up the flame
And when I'm out of beer,
Eb
she's lining up the cane
she got the good puss
G
G
And she never say no
Eb
G
when the homie wanna push
G
Yeah, my Jordan, she the baddest
Flyest -ass bitch on the planet
Down on down on
That's alright, man
Oh, get on down
Just wanna let y 'all into my rhyme book
A bunch of papeles full of lyrics
Yeah, cut it off, right?
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