Tom: F major
Verse 1
D
Bm
You lie so much that when you tell the truth
D
F#m
No one believes the shit you speakin'
A
D
Exaggerated tales start leakin'
out your inner mind
Bm
D
The same line you've been usin'
F#m
on these different women
A
F#m
Dirty snakes spittin' out
Bm
D
Hoes frontin' like they virgin
F#m
cause they pussy tight
F#m
D
vinegar vans got that ass right
Bm
F#m
How bout these lyin' ass politicians?
A
Not a whitewater scowler,
got a couple of
Clintons to
D
Bm
I'm huggin' my main squeeze,
exchange keys, left for
G and change
D
Bm
See I be that same nigga,
D
fuck the fame from around your waist
Bm
Ex change game and get richer,
A
we off the dough for the dough
Now what's the 4 -11 in
D
Bm
the streets on these niggas?
Still plotting, player aching and
E's dropping
G's stopping, listen,
A
D
I'm pimped out on the mission
Bm
It's suave when we clickin'
shooting a hundred times in
the chest with your tech?
A
How many necks you say you cracked
D
or is all that just a act?
Bm
Hoe as s, trying to show your
D
F#m
ass flexing materially
A
Like a nigga can't see through that
F#m
D
shit you claim to be
Bm
D
Friend or foe, let these niggas know that
F#m
A -Ball don't trust ya
A
Hot folk feels that high speed's
F#m
D
enough for all you busters
Bm
Feeding fabrications across
D
F#m
the nation to the young ones
A
And wonder why they shoot
F#m
D
up small towns like young guns
F#m
D
F#m
A
F#m
D
Stop used to, stop woulda, stop shoulda, stop coulda, stop baby start tellin' the truth, stop flauntin',
Bm
D
F#m
A
D
Bm
D
Bm
A
D
stop treatin', stop exaggeratin', stop lyin', baby start tellin'
Bm
A
D
Bm
D
the truth
Bm
D
F#m
Why do these niggas be grippin' on my nuts so tight,
A
F#m
ridin' mo' dick than a pro bitch
F#m
Cappin', a minute ago you just shook my hand,
A
F#m
now you're on the phone tellin' some ho that
Bm
D
F#m
Nigga, I don't give a fuck about your fake tails,
A
F#m
cake sales, or about the hoes you say
Bm
F#m
D
F#m
And these bitches far worse than what they seem,
A
F#m
sellin' mo' pussy than the record label
D
Bm
Dreams, schemes,
D
F#m
on how to take a good nigga cream
A
Think because I don't talk
F#m
a lot I must be green
Bm
D
No baby, open your eyes,
F#m
A
try to realize I'm hip to all that schlick shit
when you come to me
F#m
Tellin' me your dividends is low
A
Cryin', ho, stop that lyin',
Bm
D
None of the shit you pop,
F#m
stop before you get your ass dropped
D
now I'm droppin' your ass like it's hot
Records for lyin',
Bm
A
D
On all the jazz that you spit,
Bm
you make up stuff real quick
You make your folks feel sick,
you can't be trusted at all
A
D
If you got inches for a lie,
you would be ten feet tall
Bm
You need to sew up your mouth,
think about what you speak
A
Expressing lies bout the same
Bm
shit you said last week
D
Alright, let's censor, you told me some shit,
A
D
Bm
On the conclusion to the message you was stating,
Bm
D
I can see through your skin,
look deep into your heart
F#m
A
And let me know that you was phony
from the goddamn start
D
Bm
D
Constantly counting my pockets,
F#m
trying to scheme up a plan
A
To find a way to get my hard
F#m
D
earned loot in your hand
Bm
D
F#m
I know you niggas debatin' on whether
A
F#m
or not to work your hoes just to get information
D
Bm
But the worst thing of all,
F#m
A
And then expect somebody else
D
to try to give you some help
Bm
Stop used to, stop woulda, stop shoulda,
D
A
D
stop coulda, stop lyin', start tellin'
Bm
the truth, stop flauntin', stop trade,
A
stop exaggeratin', you need to start tellin' the
D
Bm
truth, stop used to, stop woulda, stop shoulda,
A
D
Bm
A
D
stop coulda, stop lyin', to start
F#m
D
I beat a killer player laid off in
F#m
the cut under lo cust
A
Fuck, just seen this young nigga
D
get smoked for some hundred spokes
Bm
D
No love, oh well,
F#m
I guess he should've peeped
it
I'll get you high by
Bm
D
Seekin' to kill and destroy your decoy
F#m
A
Affiliated my name with this game
F#m
D
cause they put strain on the street boy
Bm
D
F#m
I just wanna live righteous
A
and buy just about whatever
D
Bm
But I'm faced with liars an d never ending haters,
perpetrators and niggas with stress
A
Bm
Will I rest or will I continue to
Bm
I heard the world was a ghetto,
D
A
so I'm clutching my baby girl
D
With my pistol underneath my pillow
Bm
Here we go again, I'm all in
Now where y 'all been?
It's
Mr.
MJG,
A -Ball, and we ballin'
A
For all of y 'all, seek some gain,
Bm
The truth will set you free,
D
Bm
man
D
Bm
A
Bm
You
D
Bm
O que você achou da música?
AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesD Bm F#m A
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