Tom: F minor
Verse 1
F
Am
C
Em
Ayo...(what's up?)...there's a lotta
Am
motherfuckers out here
D
Em
with a style similar to mine nowadays,
you know what I mean?
(For reals) Be tryin' to
Am
like...they infiltrated the camp,
D
Em
and now they,
they want to take the style and claim it for they
Am
owns, ya know? (That's how you
Em
feel?) But I'mma blow'em up,
'cause it's just like, whatever,
you know what I'm sayin'? (Whatever)
Am
It's too strategical and
Verse 2
Em
mathematical
I rotate so fast that I appear invisible
C
Em
but never subliminal
The force centrifugal and spiritual
Am
You got static? Get grounded,
F
Em
'cause I've mastered electrical
Mostly mental,
but don't sleep on the physical
Am
C
Em
Ignorance got'em chatterin', one even
said I was a son to him
Still my LP is fatter than
Am
Dm
his or yours, took a two- year pause
Em
Now that I'm back on the set my
foes drop like hoe's drawers
F
Em
only dealin' with what's logical
Applied science left
MC's penetrable
Am
The leader's stroke is apocalyptic
D
Em
Hostile like Arabics in Israel
with automatics
C
the Monks can make it hectic
Em
Set it off, fire burn up Jack Frost
and Santa Claus
Am
C
Whatever you want to do,
Am
C
Whatever, whatever, whatever
Verse 3
Em
crews...whatever"
Am
Bound to blow up, but nev
Verse 4
Dm
The ultimate MC equation
Am
D
Ferromagnetic, ask my pops,
That's why I'm a
weedhead and not an alcoholic
Am
D
Em
Call it whatever you want to call it
Devils just know that it's
some form of arithmetic
D
Em
'cause you can picture this shit
The state of hip- hop today
is like hookers in politics
Em
Blowin' up opposition as I
maneuver through it
D
Em
overstood, I stick around
Popular like crime in ghetto
neighbourhoods
Am
Em
Rock my crown like Shaka did,
hold it down
Fuck your mind up like Joe Jackson,
kids, check it out
Am
C
D
So whatever you want to do,
Whatever, whatever, whatever
Verse 5
Em
Am
resent"
Em
Am
"And to all y'all crews,
Em
C
whatever"
F
Dm
Em
Verse 6
D
Em
heat up the competition
Spontaneous combustion,
C
like the Pope's re ligion
D
Em
your style of emceein' is Paganism
Your rhymes make no sense,
just like a Roman Christian
D
Em
you up like Lipton
The Gwong Jan Lin of underground
emceein' strikes again
Am
F
The snake bites again,
D
Em
but I'm im mune to the poisonous
venom, ask the devil,
Am
he knows I'm dangerous
D
Em
Freak on the mic, but not sexual
Call me unalike 'cause my
rhymes are never homo
C
D
Em
like when Cher left Sonny Bono
Fire burn Giuliani, Pataki and
Whatever, whatever, whatever
Verse 7
thing...I rep
Em
resent"
"And to all y'all crews, whatever"
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