Tom: B minor
Verse 1
F
Em
F
Em
I remember when these
kids got killed up in Pearl
Am
Is this the end of the world?
Em
Wrong men acting like bitches,
bitches acting like men
And it's all good as long as all
F
of these records keep selling
Em
Niggas time cut so these
snitches keep telling
Y 'all know it ain't right
F
Am
and I ain't bending for these hoes
Em
Is this the part where my God calls back
and start throwing elbows
F
Made these children go on the straight
Am
Em
And no daddy's in the home
So they turn the gun play
or they just turn K
Am
Hands bent like they wrist broke
Em
So I sit in the lap and just smoke
Staying down in the street
F
Em
Bro, this is in Georgetown and the hills
The subs and the boys in
The Delta and the coast
Em
The Queens is what I boast
But these kids in the South
is what a nigga love most
Damn, these kids is
what niggas love the most
But it's so true
I grab a pen and pen
and try to tell you how I feel
F
And scream to the Lord, it's so true
Em
It's hard in the South,
we just tryna stack a mill
D
And scream to the Lord, it's so true
and try to tell you how I feel
F
And scream to the Lord, it's so true
Em
It's hard in the South,
we just tryna stack a mill
D
And scream to the Lord, it's so true
Em
I remember when the Twin Towers fell
Did the boys in the G know
Am
F
and just didn't tell
Em
I ain't forgot about Gore
and them trick -ass ballets
F
Numbers tossed around in the mix
Em
like a salad or a bird in the bush
Or a brother up in office
trying to give a big push
Am
F
Y 'all gon' try to praise God,
Em
nah, he been watching from the junk
I'm a crunk with a pool of salt pumps,
skull and bones, y can kill me
I'm a G and the world is gon' feel me
F
Bet you never thought the truth would come
Em
straight from the middle of Mississippi
So P -Boy keep pushin'
D
Recent Big One Life, Wood Street
Em
Man we all on a mission
I grab a pen and pen
and try to tell you how I feel
F
And scream to the Lord it's so true
Em
It's hard in the South
We just tryna stack a mill
D
And scream to the Lord it's so true
and try to tell you how I feel
F
And scream to the Lord it's so true
Em
It's hard in the South
We just tryna stack a mill
D
And scream to the Lord it's so true
Em
It's for my boys in the pen
and them thugs on the county farm
D
F
If it's war, then I swear
arms and come and get ya
Send me a kite,
F
and I promise that I'll bite your back
Em
I smoke a fat sack in your name
I ain't no bitch or no hoe or no trick
Tryna ride that nigga dick
just to make a quick hit
I ain't writing love songs for
prissy bitches
F
I make songs for the queens
D
Em
that lost sight in the hood
Man, I made some bullshit, but it's good
D
Em
then you see the sip across my chest
I pray that God let my spirit
Am
Em
do the rest
I grab a pen and pen
and try to tell you how I feel
their soul tree seal
Em
It's hard in the south,
just tryna stack a mill
their soul tree seal
and try to tell you how I feel
D
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