Tom: E minor
Verse 1
F#m
Morele, this song's dedicated to my Darkonejo,
aka Kanjo, Mr. Perterous Flow.
Don't trip, fuck these fools.
A little rap jam from my right
-hand man.
Vámonos.
C#
Another vato's bout to bite the dust.
F#m
Fuck him with a cartel
F#m
C#
I hold it down in my Southside town.
F#m
Heard a buster got beef,
C#
he know where to be found
F#m
C#
What the fuck? Another drive, I was up
F#m
Killing everybody when the
weapons erupt
C#
F#m
Don't give a fuck,
C#
everybody catching lead
F#m
AKs, 47 rounds to the head
C#
F#m
C#
Empty the mag, holla at you fags
F#m
Thought you held it down,
now your body bag
C#
F#m
C#
Here's the plan, do the job so neat
F#m
Rid my enemies from the
F#m
Time to chill, lay low on the deal
C#
F#m
Cause Forensics looking
C#
for my ID on the steel
F#m
Ain't gonna hap pen,
C#
did a professional hit
F#m
C#
No fingerprint or suspect to get
F#m
C#m
All my enemigas get blasted up
F#m
Mastermind job, homie,
F#m
Think you callin' shots,
F#m
Conejo, Enco, Porro,
C#
fuck your whole day up
F#m
All my enemigas get blasted up
Mastermind job, homie,
F#m
Think you callin' shots,
homie, back on up
Conejo, Enco, Porro,
C#
fuck your whole day up
F#m
C#
Yeah, you all buffed up with your tattoos
F#m
C#
So instead of catchin' one,
dawg, you're catchin' two
F#m
C#
Little cock, smokin' dissa on the internet
F#m
I reach through your Macintosh
F#m
Pipin' down your bitch,
F#m
It's nothin' personal,
F#m
Tried to keep the beef wrapped,
F#m
Now I got a infrared pointin'
F#m
Where you at, homes?
C#
you with a loaded clapper
F#m
C#
In a three -piece, clean and dapper
F#m
Nobody at your funeral
C#
cause it didn't matter
F#m
C#
Tryna be a G, man you got no school
F#m
Acting all gumbalo, yes I got you the tool
C#
F#m
En emy goes crack when the
F#m
Haha, to fuck your whole day up
C#
F#m
Homeboy, all my enemy guys
homie that's what's up
C#
Think you calling shots, homie back on up
F#m
Go left, wake up home,
C#
fuck your whole day up
F#m
C#
All my enemy guys get blasted up
homie that's what's up
Think we callin' shots,
homie, back on up
Gon' have to work us hard,
C#
fuck your whole day up
F#m
Plottin' on your death,
F#m
What you think I'd only
C#
want someone to miss you
F#m
Pointin' at you with two
F#m
You ain't worth a sixteen,
F#m
C#
Between your eyes, Saturday surprise
F#m
C#
Bring some tears to your half -eyes eyes
F#m
You get a new tux, perfect size
C#
F#m
Got you a new box,
F#m
Tryin' to clown with your bullshit rhymes
C#
F#m
Used to do the bang shit,
C#
then I did the slang shit
C#
now it's back to the gang shit
F#m
C#
Roll deep with the S's that I hang with
F#m
C#
With my conjo up a twenty -fifth
F#m
Little homies do the hideous shit
C#
F#m
You on the wrong side of town,
C#
man, you catchin' a clip
F#m
All my enemy guys get
F#m
Mastermind job, want me fast,
F#m
Think you callin' shots,
F#m
Go left, go in, go home,
C#
fuck your whole day up
F#m
C#
All my enemikas get blasted up
F#m
C#
Mastermind job, only that's what's up
F#m
Think you're calling shots?
Hold me back, hold up
Kulejo and Kupo 'o,
C#
fuck your whole day up
C#
F#m
Kulejo and Kupo 'o, imperial
C#
Oleg Kulejo don't trip, dawg
F#m
I'ma hold these bastards down
C#
while you're out of town
Outro 1
F#m
C#
F#m
C#
F#m
C#
F#m
C#
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