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Can It Be All So Simple (Fresh Mix) accordi facili per chitarra di
Raekwon
Raekwon

N/A•
Verse 1
Am

So I sold it for the kid, know what I'm sayin'?


Right here, white top, yo, yo, hold on

I'ma go talk to this cat

Yo, kid, what up Sparks? What up? (Hold on,

hold on)

Ayo, yo, yo kid (what's up?)

What up? (What's up, baby?)

Ayo, yo, I just seen this

kid over there

Over there,

right over there by your

By your- , by your buildin' and shit

I know he ain't down with your team

Who?

I don't know, some skinny lookin',

big head nigga

You know what I'm sayin'?


He ain't makin' no fuckin' sales

though (it's funny- )

Yo, son, I just seen five fiends

around a nigga, son

Fuck we, we gotta-

Come on, fuck it, let's go over there

Lemme show you the nigga, right-

Hold up, wait up, wait up

Three deep niggas

Think niggas don't know

what the fuck time it is

Come on, come on, right over there

There he go, right there

There he go, right there, kid

That cat? Word up

Ayo, kid (I'm right behind you)

What the fuck is you doin'

man, huh? Huh?

The fuck you talkin' to?

I'm talkin' to you (talkin' to

you, what?)

You ain't talkin' to me

The fuck you talkin' about?

(You ain't talkin' to me)

Open your hand, man

What the fuck is that in your hand,

man? (What?)

Huh? What the fuck?

(Ayo, come here)

The fuck I say? (Oh shit)

Come here (motherfuck- , shit)

Come here, yeah, it's my shit

This my shit (get up, get up)

Aight, watch, watch, aight watch

Get up, yo, yo, grab that nigga, grab him (come here,

come here)

Oh shit, move, son,

move, move, move, damn, damn

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, yo, yo

Yo, man, yo, son, I'm hit

I'm hit son, I'm hit, I'm hit (yo,

son)

Damn, son (yo, oh, yo, yo)

You bleedin' son, bad son

Ayo grab this, grab this, take this,

take this

Take this, take this, go on

I'ma go over to God's house, go ahead

'fore the cops come

I'ma throw this shit away, man

Go ahead, just go ahead, go ahead, son,

just go ahead

Man fuck that, man seventeen

Man, get the fuck outta here, man (yo son, hurry

up son, damn son)

Go ahead man, you dyin', go ahead,

son, go ahead, go ahead

Hold that shit, son

Yo go ahead, man, go ahead

Niggas try to assassinate me,

man (damn)

Yo (we gon' get that cat, man)
Dm
Nigga it's- It's the remix, son
Verse 2
C


Am

Can it be, act like you know
Dm

Check it
Verse 3
Am

Yo, check what happened

out of state
Dm

I'm knockin' off a half- a- cake cash rule,

flyin' at a fast rate
Am

I smoked a black Dutch kept my hands clutched,
E
Bbm

I'm fallin' in lust
Dm

Spoiled, plus I played my hand

like a royal flush
Am
E

Baggy jeans, Wallabee Clarks, pretty woman
Am
Dm

I put it in him, shot up in him, deadly venom
Am

I hung around the big time bosses
Bbm

Illegal force exchange thoughts,
Dm

showin' love to all my sources
Am
Dm
Am

Spades tried to bag me, like

Cagney, and Lacey
Dm

Chef had that bitch Stacey

slippin' in Macy's
Am

I dose off,
Dm
Am
Dm

catch a flashback on how I got trapped
Am
Dm

And got licked like Papsy in a mob flick,

I got hit
Am

Stumblin', holdin' my neck
E

to the God's rest
Bbm
C#

Opened flesh burgundy
Dm

blood colored my Guess
Am

Emergency trauma,
E

black teen headed for surgery
C#
Dm

Can it be an out of state nigga

tried to murder me?
Am

I should've stayed in Job Corp,
Bbm

and now I'm a outlaw
Am
Dm
Am

Ray Cartegna, carry a .44 nigga
C
Am
Can it be that it was all so simple
Verse 4
Am


then?

(Dedicated to the Gods

and Earths)
Dm

(Dedicated to babies
Am

who came feet first)
C
Am

Can it be that it was all so sim

ple then?

(Dedicated to up north and down

state)
Dm

(Dedicated to rich niggas

who sell weight)
C

Can it be that it was all so simple

then?
Am

(Dedicated to projects

with black kids)
Dm

(Dedicated to man
Am

who build pyramids)
Verse 5

Word up What the f- , yo?
Am

Dm

We takin' you on another chamber
Am

Word up, son, you know how we

be on it (word to mother, man)

It's real
Bm
Am

Show these crabs how to rhyme, man

I think it's time to bless them,

word up

Bulletproof
Dm

First chamber (hit em, Chef)
Verse 6

Yo, yo
Am

It started off on the Island,

AK Shaolin niggas wildin'
C
Am

Old folks scream, "Stop the violence"

True, layin' up, yo,

watchin' these crack niggas
Dm

Play enough crap games for what?
Am

See back in days,
E

crime pays in mad ways
Bbm
Dm

Sportin' Tommy Hil' with caves,

three- sixty waves
Am

And no searchin' for loose ends,
E
C#

now I flex 300 Benz
Dm

Mad tens with mad diamonds
Am

Now that's the life of the good
Bbm

life, sometimes niggas act trife
Dm

I paid the price throughout my hood life
Am

Remember I got blasted,
C#

now that's in the past kid
Dm

God forbid I lay in the casket
Am

But now I'm all about G- notes
Dm

No time for weed, mixed with coke

I wash my mouth out with soap
Am
Dm

And I got my act together
C#

'Lo sweaters and bet ter
Dm

And fat leather, so whatever
Verse 7

Bring it on
Am
C
Am
Dm

Can it be that it was all so simple
Am

then? (For real, murderous material stacked up)
C
Am

Can it be that it was all so simple then? (Peace to mazes,
Dm
C

for real)
Am

Can it be that it was all so simple
D
C

then? (Meditatin' off lfie)
Am

Can it be that it was all so
D
C

simple then? (Go)
Am

Can it be that it was all-

(Word up, y'all,
Dm
Am
Bm

crazy fly dedications to my people
D
Dm
Am

Word up, peace to all my brothers that I

ain't gon' see no more)
Dm

All so simple then
Am

Can it be that it was all so simple then? (Peace to all
Bbm
Dm

the brothers on the Island)
Am

(Up north, word up)

Can it be that it was all so simple then?
Dm
Am

(Straight up, love you, boy)
C
Am
G

Can it be that it was all so simple then? (It's on like that,

word up)
Dm
Am
Peace to man, wo man and child
Verse 8
Eaug

Dm

Word up (we got you covered,
Am

baby)
E
Am

Projects (we're here for you)
Bbm
Dm
Am
E

Projects peoples, one love
Bbm
C#

Keep your head clear,
Dm
Am

we outta here
G

Move in silence
Am
E
C#

Bad boys creatin' the muderous stacks
Dm
Am

for your headpiece
G

Baldheads, braids,
Am
E

blowouts (for real
Bbm

though)
Dm
Am

Yo, fly chicks
G
Am

It's the remix, y'all
E
Bbm
Dm

For real, the real side
Am

(The RZA, check it)

Razor blade sharp
Dm
Am

Peace to the Clan

No other producer can compare, boy
Am

Word up
G

Bring it, battle, beats, all types of shit

For real, y'all

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Una paletta della chitarra acustica con piroli di accordatura

Tuning:Standard Open Tuner
Accordi

  • Am

  • Dm

  • C

  • E

  • Bbm

  • C#

    4

  • Bm

    2

  • D

  • G

  • Eaug

    5

Capotasto: 0

Trasponi

0

Scorrimento automatico20%

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