Tom: D minor•
Verse 1
C
Dm
Am
C'mon man!"
C
G
Am
C
G
Am
C
Dm
G
Am
"Ricky!"
C
G
Am
C
Dm
G
Am
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
"Help me! Help me! Somebody,
help me!"
"Ricky, Ricky!"
Bb
F
"Ricky!"
Dm
Verse 2
F
Blood of a slave, heart of a giant
Dm
Had to leave Aftermath,
Dre said I was too defiant
That was five years ago,
Dm
Destroyin' Interscope, shot
myself like Plaxico
Gm
F
But fuck that, blaze one,
where the matches yo?
Dm
Hit the freeway and see
how fast the Aston go
Dm
You can see all my diamonds and how
much cash I blow
how many cars I drive
C
Dm
How many goons I got,
count 'em and they all outside
F
Niggas try to shut me up like Malcom
Dm
But standin' in the window caine
Verse 3
smoking was the outcome
Gm
F
Sometimes I get a little stressed
and pop a Valium
Dm
Hit Hollywood late night and knock
down a stallion
Gm
So niggas think twice about
C
Dm
You'll hear Cuba Gooding yelling "Ricky!"
My nostalgia is one hundred percent
F
Compton and zero percent snitch
Dm
Park a Bentley and the Phantom
on blocks while I use the pitch
Made the Cincinnati fitted more
Dm
several years ago they tried to split his wig
Gm
F
Two to the chest, struck his heart,
one hit his rib
Dm
Then I blacked out, like a movie,
all I could hear
Gm
F
Verse 4
Dm
Feelin' all fucked up, woke up to a doctor
F
Dm
All I could think about,
was that the cops took my weed and my choppers
F
They want me to sing, like Sinatra,
Get this clear like Belvedere vodka
straight out of Compton
Gm
I seen Boyz in the Hood,
F
Morris Chestnut was a actor
Dm
2Pac was the real life "Ricky!"
Then they shot down the nigga that shot him,
C
Dm
If I'm lying then Compton is
New York and I'm Rakim
I'm from where niggas get
C
Dm
And punched in the jaw
Verse 5
just for a cocked brim
Gm
F
Nobody mama let the cops in,
Dm
we ain't got no options
Wanted to be a boxer, but I was boxed in
Gm
F
Then my grandmother house
went up for auction
Dm
And that's what killed 'em,
I'm goin' back to buy the block then
F
Too many niggas locked in,
C
Dm
dig up Cochran and defend all my niggas
With they faith under stockings,
rather face
with no options
C
Dm
If Compton ain't the murder capital,
we in the top ten
F
Drive by with our face painted,
like a clown
forty shells bouncin' off the ground
Gm
F
This how my living room sound, when my brother got shot down
Outro 1
Dm
F
Gm
C
Edim
C
Gm
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
Gm
F
Dm
Gm
F
Dm
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