Tom: F major
Verse 1
A
F#m
You lie so much that when you tell the truth
A
C#m
No one believes the shit you speakin'
E
A
Exaggerated tales start leakin'
out your inner mind
F#m
A
The same line you've been usin'
C#m
on these different women
E
C#m
Dirty snakes spittin' out
F#m
A
Hoes frontin' like they virgin
C#m
cause they pussy tight
C#m
A
vinegar vans got that ass right
F#m
C#m
How bout these lyin' ass politicians?
E
Not a whitewater scowler,
got a couple of
Clintons to
A
F#m
I'm huggin' my main squeeze,
exchange keys, left for
G and change
A
F#m
See I be that same nigga,
A
fuck the fame from around your waist
F#m
Ex change game and get richer,
E
we off the dough for the dough
Now what's the 4 -11 in
A
F#m
the streets on these niggas?
Still plotting, player aching and
E's dropping
G's stopping, listen,
E
A
I'm pimped out on the mission
F#m
It's suave when we clickin'
shooting a hundred times in
the chest with your tech?
E
How many necks you say you cracked
A
or is all that just a act?
F#m
Hoe as s, trying to show your
A
C#m
ass flexing materially
E
Like a nigga can't see through that
C#m
A
shit you claim to be
F#m
A
Friend or foe, let these niggas know that
C#m
A -Ball don't trust ya
E
Hot folk feels that high speed's
C#m
A
enough for all you busters
F#m
Feeding fabrications across
A
C#m
the nation to the young ones
E
And wonder why they shoot
C#m
A
up small towns like young guns
C#m
A
C#m
E
C#m
A
Stop used to, stop woulda, stop shoulda, stop coulda, stop baby start tellin' the truth, stop flauntin',
F#m
A
C#m
E
A
F#m
A
F#m
E
A
stop treatin', stop exaggeratin', stop lyin', baby start tellin'
F#m
E
A
F#m
A
the truth
F#m
A
C#m
Why do these niggas be grippin' on my nuts so tight,
E
C#m
ridin' mo' dick than a pro bitch
C#m
Cappin', a minute ago you just shook my hand,
E
C#m
now you're on the phone tellin' some ho that
F#m
A
C#m
Nigga, I don't give a fuck about your fake tails,
E
C#m
cake sales, or about the hoes you say
F#m
C#m
A
C#m
And these bitches far worse than what they seem,
E
C#m
sellin' mo' pussy than the record label
A
F#m
Dreams, schemes,
A
C#m
on how to take a good nigga cream
E
Think because I don't talk
C#m
a lot I must be green
F#m
A
No baby, open your eyes,
C#m
E
try to realize I'm hip to all that schlick shit
when you come to me
C#m
Tellin' me your dividends is low
E
Cryin', ho, stop that lyin',
F#m
A
None of the shit you pop,
C#m
stop before you get your ass dropped
A
now I'm droppin' your ass like it's hot
Records for lyin',
F#m
E
A
On all the jazz that you spit,
F#m
you make up stuff real quick
You make your folks feel sick,
you can't be trusted at all
E
A
If you got inches for a lie,
you would be ten feet tall
F#m
You need to sew up your mouth,
think about what you speak
E
Expressing lies bout the same
F#m
shit you said last week
A
Alright, let's censor, you told me some shit,
E
A
F#m
On the conclusion to the message you was stating,
F#m
A
I can see through your skin,
look deep into your heart
C#m
E
And let me know that you was phony
from the goddamn start
A
F#m
A
Constantly counting my pockets,
C#m
trying to scheme up a plan
E
To find a way to get my hard
C#m
A
earned loot in your hand
F#m
A
C#m
I know you niggas debatin' on whether
E
C#m
or not to work your hoes just to get information
A
F#m
But the worst thing of all,
C#m
E
And then expect somebody else
A
to try to give you some help
F#m
Stop used to, stop woulda, stop shoulda,
A
E
A
stop coulda, stop lyin', start tellin'
F#m
the truth, stop flauntin', stop trade,
E
stop exaggeratin', you need to start tellin' the
A
F#m
truth, stop used to, stop woulda, stop shoulda,
E
A
F#m
E
A
stop coulda, stop lyin', to start
C#m
A
I beat a killer player laid off in
C#m
the cut under lo cust
E
Fuck, just seen this young nigga
A
get smoked for some hundred spokes
F#m
A
No love, oh well,
C#m
I guess he should've peeped
it
I'll get you high by
F#m
A
Seekin' to kill and destroy your decoy
C#m
E
Affiliated my name with this game
C#m
A
cause they put strain on the street boy
F#m
A
C#m
I just wanna live righteous
E
and buy just about whatever
A
F#m
But I'm faced with liars an d never ending haters,
perpetrators and niggas with stress
E
F#m
Will I rest or will I continue to
F#m
I heard the world was a ghetto,
A
E
so I'm clutching my baby girl
A
With my pistol underneath my pillow
F#m
Here we go again, I'm all in
Now where y 'all been?
It's
Mr.
MJG,
A -Ball, and we ballin'
E
For all of y 'all, seek some gain,
F#m
The truth will set you free,
A
F#m
man
A
F#m
E
F#m
You
A
F#m
O que você achou da música?
AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesA F#m C#m E
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4.7
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