Bring The Pain: accordi di
Mindless Self Indulgence
Tonalità: D minor
Intro 1
Now lemme tell ya now
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F
E
I came to bring the pain
Dm
E
hardcore from the brain
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E
Dm
Let's go in side my astral plane
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F
E
F
Verse 1
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F
Find out my mental,
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Dm
based on instrumental
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F
E
Dm
Records, so I can write monumental
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F
E
Methods, I'm not the king but niggas is decaf
I stick 'em for the CREAM
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E
Check it, just how deep can shit get,
F
E
get deep as the abyss
F
And brothers is mad pissed, accept it
E
In your cross colored clothes
you crossed over
Now you're totally crossed out and Kriss Kross
Verse 2
E
Who da boss, niggas get tossed to da side
And I'm the dark side
I am the force of course
It's the Method from the Wu Tang
I'll be hectic
and comin' for that head piece, protect it
E
Fuck it, two tears in a bucket
Niggas want the ruckus?
Yo bust it at me son, now bust it
E
Styles, I get buck wild
F
E
Method (woo) on some shit
F
Fuckin' niggas foul son, I'm sick
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C
Insane crazy, drivin' Miss Daisy
A
How the fuck am I?
Now I got mine I'm Swayze
Chorus 1
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F
Is it real son, lemme know it's real son
E
F
If its really real son, lemme know it's real
G#
E
Load it up and kill one
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Load it up and kill one
G#
E
Load it up and kill one
Bridge 1
If it's really real
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G
When I was a little stereo
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D
I used to be the champion
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I always wonder
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D
When I will be the number one
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Hey, hey, hey
G
And now you listen to me Darcon, Darcon
E
And all you niggas
G
come and test me, test me
C
D
I'm gonna lick out your brains
Verse 3
E
Brothers want to hang
C
with the Meth', bring a rope
A
G
'Cause the only way you hang is by the neck
E
Nigga pump off a set
E
comin' through all your projects
F
E
E
Take it as a threat or better yet, it is a promise
F
E
Comin' from a vet on some old Vietnam shit
You can bet your bottom dollar that I'm on it
E
And it'll get even worse,
word to God it's the Wu
Comin' through takin' niggas 'fore they're
Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
Bridge 2
Em
E
Movin' to your left
I came to represent
and carve my name within your chest
E
You can come test, realize it's no contest, son
I'm the gun who won that old wild West
Verse 4
E
Quick on the draw with my hands on the floor
F
E
Lovin' all those goddamn
monkey rhymes galore
F
Check it, 'cause I think not
when this hip-hopslike proper
Rhymes be the proof
E
when I'm drinkin' 90 proof vodka
No OJ, no, no straw
When you give it to me yeah, give it to me raw
Bridge 3
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G
C
I burn
D
Give it to me raw
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G
C
I burn
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I don't need no chemical blow
to pull no hoe, no
F
All I need is chemical bank to pay her up
Chorus 2
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F
Is it real son, lemme know it's real son
E
If its really real son, lemme know it's
F
G#
1, 2, 3, 4
F
Fuck it up and kill one
G#
E
Fuck it up and kill one
Outro 1
Lemme know it's real
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G
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G
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G
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G
E
F
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F
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