Magic: accordi di
Yung Gravy
Yung Gravy

N/A3 visualizzazioni
Tonalità: Eb major
Verse 1
D
Em
Oh- oh- oh- oh, oh- oh-
D
F#m
A
B
oh- oh
G
D
A
D
It's Jason Rich, baby
Oh, baby
Verse 2
D
Gravy get near, your bitch disappear,
I call that shit magic (whoa)
She was your B, now she with me,
ain't that shit tragic? (Baby)
Gravy get close, you get comatose,
that shit automatic (whoa)
I'm catchin' spells, you takin' L's,
shit is fantastic
Verse 3
D
Pull up on a bitch and get steamy Think
I'm Houdini,
lookin' like a genie (ayy)
Got that sauce, Fettuccine, Gravy so creamy,
wrist so gleamy (ayy)
Shit, I'm in it,
eatin' that goddamn spinach
What a bad bitch, she finished
Gravy get near, your career get finished
Verse 4
D
I'm like open sesame,
F#m
D
now your bitch right next to me
F#m
Pipe up, that's my destiny,
D
call that shit finnessery, baby
Em
D
Ooh, that's a flex, do a little trick,
A
now your bitch is your ex
D
Heard my voice,
A
now she tryna have s- (whoa)
D
Flexin' on ya too complex, baby
Verse 5
D
Ala- ka- fuckin- zam
I'm like, "Bitch,
who is your mans?"
Abracadabra with these hands
Hit your bitch with the shazam
Verse 6
D
Gravy get near, your bitch disappear,
I call that shit magic (whoa)
She was your B, now she with me,
ain't that shit tragic? (Baby)
Gravy get close, you get comatose,
that shit automatic (whoa)
I'm catchin' spells, you takin' L's,
A
shit is fantastic
D
Pull up on a bitch and get steamy Think
Verse 7
D
I'm Houdini,
lookin' like a genie, baby
Got that sauce, Tortellini, Gravy so creamy,
wrist so gleamy (ayy)
Shit, I'm in it,
eatin' that goddamn spinach
What a bad bitch, she finished
Gravy gettin' near,
your career get finished
F#m
I'm so sorry that I had to
Verse 8
D
end it
G
Gravy served it up,
D
like I'm playin' fuckin' tennis
2018, I'll be runnin' for the Senate
Gravy took your bitch,
that's a fuckin' epidemic (crazy)
Hear the bird call,
and your bitch come hither
Your bitch in my line,
and the goods get delivered
Pull up and I splash like a
motherfuckin' river
Wrist so cold, make a grown man shiver
Verse 9
D
Gravy get near, your bitch disappear,
I call that shit magic (whoa)
She was your B, now she with me,
ain't that shit tragic? (Baby)
Gravy get close, you get comatose,
that shit automatic (whoa)
I'm catchin' spells, you takin' L's,
G
A
shit is fantastic
D
Bum- bum- bum- bum,
A
D
bum- bum- bum- bum

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