Tonalità: D minor
Verse 1
Bbm
Yeah, you know it's about to
go down right?
(Yeah!) Got to let them know who is
Fm
Bbm
this? (Ludacris!)
And who else nigga? (Twista, wo, ah!)
Uh, uh (check it out)
Verse 2
Bbm
Sometimes I think that I got to see
a little bit of brighter days
Cause I confine myself to a city
near you in a solid cage
And you could look to the left or the right
but I'm trapped on center stage
And I could rap to the beat,
Fm
Bbm
but I don't know how to change my ways
Fm
Bbm
I still hear a fool and I track them,
distract them, and whack them
Jack a nigga for the day to days and I yak them,
attack them, and sack them
C
Get a weapon and I crack his brain
Bbm
cause I'm a hustler, baller, pro
And it wouldn't be right for me to be around busters,
and crawlers, and hoes
But I'm a pimp at night,
Fm
Bbm
so talk shit and I'm a lift them up off of they toes
With a street sweeper regulating quarters,
Fm
and ki's, and o's
Bbm
In a two- seater,
Ludacris and Twista with bags of dro
Smoking, choking,
get them open, croaking
Fm
It's so potent - I'm hop
Bbm
Fm
ing to keep on floating
Bbm
Soaking wet and you can bet,
people I'm high
I'm seeing lions,
C
and tigers and bears - oh my!
Bbm
And I can't hide it or keep it hidden,
good riddance I'm felling good
I'm weapon- concealing,
C
Fm
stealing my neighborhood
Bbm
Would, could,
and should break a nigga off
They'll see you later, go to the doctor,
hold my balls and (cough)
You caused some vapors and I caught the throne,
brain blown, honey I'm home
Give me the microphone, and fools is like,
Fm
"leave me alone!"
Bbm
[Chorus] Throw it up if
Verse 3
you get high,
get blow, get drunk
If you want what I'm
on, come on and kick it
Let's ride, smoke dro, beat the trunk
All the bad ass bitches that want to party
Just shake it, great players get pumped
Me and my thugs, and hustlers in the party
Get money fuck hoes,
Fm
get crunk
Verse 4
Bbm
(Look out!) I put a little bit of hash on
some motherfucking purple haze
I feel it all over my body,
adrenaline with the Bacardi
Got me up and then ripping shit in a rage
In the netti cofetti with a belly,
Gucci
Timberland stepping on the petal
up in the Cadillac truck
Want to get me for the wood
Better get the whole motherfucking hood
to come and give you some back up
We can get into it and if you
want to do it
I'm leaking the fluids out of the bodies
that want to come at this
If they all get some blood for fucking
with thugs that I bury
My adversaries better not
want none of Twis'
Represent for my city,
anybody that different with me
Got to get him for thinking
it's a game
And whether you from my city or not,
talk shit
Fm
I'ma kill him especially if he say my name
Bbm
I've been up on him - I handle
Fm
my business
Bbm
And I'm a stick him up for the scrilla, from K- Tilla,
smoking on a fat piller
Murder haters that
don't feel a
Niggaz claiming they want to bring
C
Bbm
it, but really don't be killers
Balling out so hard the size of my rims
grow to a hellafied sight- scene
When the dough become no bigger,
Fm
Bbm
I'm going to drop that 2003 on 19"
Verse 5
[Chorus]
Bbm
Fm
Bbm
Fm
We balling out of control,
Bbm
I floss on, play on, pimp on
A speed demon,
pedal to the metal when I'm in the zone
Hang on cause here I'm gone
Fm
Bbm
In the motherfucking wind when
I'm sippin on Henn'
I got paper, you owe something
And I done came a long way from letting me hold something,
to roll something
Find a body,
then fill him up with some adrenaline
And then kill him and send
him to the cemetery
With a flow for the whole
world like a poet,
Check icy cold, your Pop's so hungry,
he mends a berry
Shit, and when it come to shipping good
Who that?, who that?, I got the sack open
Fm
And the herb got the flow so strong
Bbm
Hot them on crack,
the track is for back- to- back smoking
Never come up with it unwise, and he
Nigga you ain't untouchable
when I spark the heat
Coming at you like sharks to meat
The blood is softly,
I can tell when a mark is hard as we
Come fully loaded cause
I'm hard to beat
Always screaming where a beat
and the dro at?
You know we love that cut up
Fm
Bbm
In the back of the club with purple
in the back crying
Twis' and Ludacris get
Fm
Bbm
fucked
Verse 6
up
Bbm
[Chorus]
Pass me the
Fm
Bbm
Let me smoke my
(Yeah, this a Wild style
production
Bbm
Twista and Ludacris collabo, get it, get it
Bbm
Get it, uh, yeah)
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