Tom: G minor•
Verse 1
me close to the ground.
I ain't panicked.
I've been here before.
Seems like only yesterday
when I got up on that stage,
in front of that crowd,
and showed them who was who
and what was what.
Man, look at these suckers.
I ain't no rapper.
I'm a hustler.
Just so happens I know how to rap.
Dm
Cm
Uh -huh.
Let's get it again, nigga.
Cm
Gm
Dm
I'm real young
I'm young
Dm
Cm
I'm young
I'm real young
A lot of speculation
Gm
on the monies I've made
Dm
Cm
Punnies I've slayed
How is E for real?
Is that nigga really paid?
Gm
Dm
Cm
Hustlers I've met or dealt with dir ect
Is it true he's state of beef
and slept with a tent?
Gm
What's the position you hold?
Dm
Can you really match a triple
Fuck my butt but only a single
going gold
Rockefeller shit fold
Dm
Cm
And you're left out in the cold
Is it back to charging motherfuckers
11 for a 0?
Gm
For the millionth time asking me
Dm
Questions like Wendy Williams
Then get upset when I catch feelings
Gm
Dm
Can I get a minute to breathe?
And in that minute you leave
Cm
While I'm looking at my roll
Ice spinning on my sleeve
Dm
Do you really have a spot?
Cm
Like you said in front of Vogue
And if so, what block?
Gm
What you doing in L .A.
Dm
Cm
With Filipinos in es says
Latinos in Chevettes down
by Pico with Frederico
Gm
I answer all y questions but
Dm
Cm
then y got to go
Now the question I ask you
is how bad you wanna know
Gm
Dm
Black! York!
I'm New York!
Ab
Eb
I got the feel of y 'all
Bbm
Eb
Uh! No mustache
Bbm
Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more
About crime no more
To I'm no more
Bbm
My flow expose hoes that
they find in yours
Was it for me,
Eb
niggas still be dying for whores
Bbm
But I hate when the niggas sit back,
I'm ironing yours
Young blood, you better get that,
Bbm
Niggas don't wanna be confined
to riding the iron horse
And don't listen to the rappers,
Eb
yo, they dying to floss
Bbm
I used to be OT, applying the force
Shoot up the whole block,
Bbm
Come back with the click
playing Diana Ross
I'm the boss,
Ebm
Eb
and this is how it's gon' be
Bbm
Burnt the turnpike while
Miles on the beat
I got miles to feed till they
Ebm
Eb
put flowers on me
Bbm
And kiss my cold cheek,
chicks crying like I was cold cheeks
Ebm
Tombstone, Reedy was holding no leaks
Bbm
Started from the crack game
and then so sweet
Ebm
Freaked it to the rap game, Jigga the OG
Bbm
On MTV, telling them how I sold D
And used to bag work
Ebm
up out of apartment 4B
Bbm
Me and my homie started out coldies
Picked a mailbox lock cause I
Bbm
Had the cable with the anchor
when Jazz made Sophie
Then I went low key,
Ebm
Eb
but now I'm back, it's on,
Ebm
Bbm
Jigga, uh -huh, yeah, Rockefeller, yo
Ebm
Bbm
Ebm
Uh, uh, Phyllis
Bbm
Ebm
Ebm
Bbm
You
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