Tom: G minor•
Verse 1
Cm
Uh, I'm picking my voice a bit, just a bit man,
Gm
Cm
just a bit man, yeah, just a bit, just a little bit, yeah
Flippin', XO trippin',
Eb
Cm
oh shit
Flippin', XO trippin',
got the new kicks from the
Cm
Still ain't livin', skin off the chicken
And you hoes already know
Cm
Still a big dip per, still a straight killer
Still unloadin' off the 18 -wheeler
Eb
Cm
Nobody better, never ever ever
Glass on my leg like the
Cm
Hand on my redder, surf on the netter
Eb
Lookin' for a shredder in a polo sweater
Cm
Beef gets settled, straight from the ghetto
Say you comin' back home,
Gm
boy I keep the spittle
Cm
Hillwood Tex ans, not many mesquites
Except the one that got
the two 600 engines
Eb
Cm
Don't ask questions,
don't give answers
Sitting at the bar cause I'm
Cm
It's the day af ter, pray for me pastor
Mix a lil' purple with the
strawberry shaster
Eb
Cm
Water, cream, soda,
rolling in the Cobra
Motherfucking thug,
Gm
born the 5th of October
Cm
Serving that coca, it's the V the Loca
Catch her at the club,
Gm
I'm a slapper then choker
Eb
Cm
Still about to howl it, bite it and I shot it
Call it what you call it,
more brown bags and sonic
men
I'm abracadabra,
struggler not a straggler
Bubbler not a babbler,
hustler not a hassler
Eb
Cm
Never been a bachelor,
always been married
To these fucking streets,
stay in love till I'm buried
Now I'm a swang, I'm a swerve,
I think I'm seeing blurred
With my boy Serge in the
Cm
With my Persian princess on 22 inches
When I sleep she say that my
trigger finger twitches
Gm
Cm
I'm superstitious and I'm livin' ghosts
Eb
So many hoes wanna be with the loafs
Cm
I'm tweakin' on the motherfuckin'
weed that I smoke
Throwin' 95 on my
chunkin' up my trays
Noble call me up talkin'
bout he wanna raise
Eb
Cm
Crime show pays, don't do braids
Keep a low cut like the boy
Cm
Battles in the shakes,
jumps in the brakes
White candy paint look
Cm
Sellin' my tapes in 50 different states
Fuck the radio,
Gm
cause you motherfuckers hate
Cm
But it's all good, I'm from a small hood
Ties bitches up and bring them
back to heel wood
In my Levi's, sag down to my lugs
Gm
With a t -shirt that say weed is not drugs
Cm
Be one of us, live in the rush
Just put diamonds on my baby's hairbrush
Eb
Cm
I fuck with the plus and not the minus
Gm
And I might just let my black 9 bus
Eb
Cm
And it goes like, uh,
y 'all ain't ready for this, uh -uh
Eb
Y 'all ain't ready for this, uh,
Cm
y 'all ain't ready for this
Come on, you no ready for this
Gm
Cm
I tighten up my laces,
I'm a brand new Stacey's
Hug and kiss my babies,
then call up my crazies
Eb
Cm
Tryna make it through another
day ain't all easy
Motherfuckers hate cause
Cm
Young niggas think we out here
playing fucking games
To one nigga's looking at the
other nigga's brains
Eb
Cm
Laughed and we giggled
bout the words that I riddled
Now we stiff in a coffin,
rock hard and dick shriveled
Gm
Cm
Hopping along in my 54 bomb
Yes, I hate pigs like them boys of Islam
Dawn in the wind, not long till the end
No more talking,
Gm
my Glock in the palm of my hand
Got a car, they shot two,
the rest ran away
Eb
That's how the shit get
Cm
done in the deep south
I'm in Vegas watching
Vargas knock a bitch out
Gm
D
Cm
Ice glisten, politician on
the down and dirty
Peace to all my fuckin' raza
up in Albuquerque
Eb
Cm
Signed a bonus with a uni,
now my house is roomy
Niggas wanna do me,
but you bitches nothin' to me
Gm
Cm
Understand my killer's love,
makin' haters bloody
Actin' buddy,
but he softer than Silly Putty
Hangin' by a rope and gut
him like you do a goat
And on his neck,
write this on a fuckin' note
Gm
Eb
Cm
Bitch isn't in the wind,
what began has begun
Blast my heat once,
sweep him up and be done
Eb
Cm
I'm one in a catrillion,
motherfuckin' million
Layin' in my bed,
Gm
gettin' hit from a Brazilian
gangsta still listen
I'm blowin' weed with them
boys from New Edition
Eb
Cm
Man, I'm ballin', never ever fallin'
Skip to my Lou,
my motherfuckin' darlin'
And it goes like
Uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
Eb
Y 'all ain't ready for this
Cm
Uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
Uh -uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
Eb
Cm
So if you see him, see him,
Gm
go ahead tell him, tell him
Eb
and I sell him, sell him
Cm
Or I sling him, sling him
It don't matter what you call it
My shit's so hot up on the hood
you better record it
D
Cm
Now some of y 'all niggas
G
F#
think my heart is so warm
Cm
Gm
Eb
Cold motherfucker, me, you the one,
Gm
Have your whole crew ducka -ducka
Cm
It happens when I pull out
Cm
Nigga watcha, be careful
cause my blood gets hotter
Chunk that bullet out my gun,
to be a mic wrecker
With the grace of Yahweh
Gm
Eb
I come to be the mic checker
D
Cm
Now it's better,
now that I'm making matcha
My belly stay full and my
Eb
throat is never wetter
meet me at the backstage later
Cause when I go there with this
Cm
D
Cm
Jamaica
That's what I'm talking about, for real
Cm
Uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
I won it. All right.
Yeah, right.
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesCm Gm Eb D G...
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