Tonalità: G minor•
Verse 1
Gm
You've practiced 20 years?
You must be extremely good then
Verse 2
Perhaps, you'll try with me?
Gm
Come and taste my seasonin', Chef,
Dm
Gm
the cooking that is mar velous
Back over a stove, makin' your mouth water,
you starve for this
Exclusive sneakers with hard denim,
Dm
heavyweight
Gm
A neighbor illustrated Alex
Haley with paper
Waves spinnin' like the Titanic,
come take a float on
Silky, like King Henry the eight
robe in lace frame
Restaurants with skeleton keys,
it's big business
Well groomed and elegant
posture is real dapper
Status is gigantic,
D
Gm
culture's alpaca
Meetings in the Vatican,
Dm
drinkin' scotch with the Muscle Milk
Cm
Praises go to Ason, the
dynasty Mr. Russell built
Feed me royal shottas with Glocks, clean
D
'em with tea tree oil
China dolls from Bangkok, we bang 'em,
Dm
train 'em and make 'em loyal
Trees stank, she come kiss the
top of my Yves Saint
F
Wise- Universal Tang when I bang
Am
Grizzly with the big bank, it's 5 stars,
F
Dm
y'all, when I call rank
Verse 3
Gm
Egos are somethin' that
Dm
the Wu- Tang trust
Gm
These stupid jealous niggas,
Dm
y'all 'bout to get rust
Gm
This ashes to ashes to dust to dust
These devilish MC's cannot
Dm
Gm
fuck with us, Lord
Egos are somethin' that
the Wu- Tang trust
These stupid jealous niggas,
y'all 'bout to get rust
Dm
This ashes to ashes to dust to dust
Gm
Dm
These devil they come see me, cannot fuck with us,
Verse 4
Lord
Gm
Rifles out, bear like the Russian
D
Gm
Octagon tuggin' silk drawers frontin',
Dm
Gm
while her head stuntin'
Cm
Mo' sanes flood the garage
Man the goats launchin'
charge cards from Africa
Catch me in the hookah lodge
D
Brains linked,
twisted Cohibas say the seeds bang
Dm
Coffee pots with graveyard rings,
flippin' Gs
Gm
F
Yankee hoodlum on the
top of the charts
Am
Dart throwers, they sharks
F
Dm
Everybody run when my gun barks
Verse 5
Gm
Non- athletic,
anti- semetic, synthetic rappers get no credit
Pathetic septic lines,
incompetent styles not embedded
Wu- Tang slang bangs in your brain,
this is not genetic, prophetic
Unadulterated talent while y'all
Verse 6
talk that bullshit rhetoric
Gm
Egos are somethin' that
the Wu- Tang trust
These stupid jealous niggas,
y'all 'bout to get rust
F
This ashes to ashes to dust to dust
Am
F
D
These devilicious see me, cannot fuck with us,
Gm
Gm
Lord
Where is the money?
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AccordatoreE A D G B E
AccordiGm Dm D Cm F...
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