Tonalità: Bb minor
Verse 1
G
It's 3am West Coast time nigga
Gm
G
We at Fat Burger
Hood nigga rich shit gourmet burgers,
nigga
Gm
G
Know what I'm talking about? Ay
Gm
G
She pussy popping pocket watching
F#
They call her a thot
G
Bad credit cash it out
Fresh up off the lot
Gm
G
Gm
No back and forth yipping yapping
G
F#
G
Niggas getting shot
10 million, 20 acres
F#
That's the new spot
G
Flooded out my crib and
F#
G
Told my jeweller you the illest
Reneg on my contract
F#
Gm
Told my label I don't feel it
F#
G
Fell out with my partner
F#
He mixed friendship with our business
G
Broke up with my bitch
F#
'Cuz she was too much in her feelings
G
I may fuck her friend
F#
G
F#
Fuck it I may fuck her friend
G
F#
Between me and you
G
Gm
I always wanted to fuck her friend
G
If I kill a hater
F#
Lord you gotta forgive my sins
G
F#
That's one fuck nigga you ain't
gotta worry about again
G
I'm forever thuggin' I ain't
never changed
F#
G
F#
G
In plain colors but forever banging
F#
G
Blowing money but I'm maintaining
Blowing money but I'm maintaining
F#
I got a gambling problem but
G
money can't really solve it
Trying to help all the real niggas
Hate to see a nigga starving
F#
Hate to see nigga robbing they
G
own people shit, disloyal
Bitch trying to give me the
F#
pussy for a Birkin bag
G
I can't afford you
F#
I grew listening to 2pac and that Biggie
G
F#
Jay- z and that Nas
G
No gimmick rappers niggas
F#
these rappers had bars
Back when record labels turned real
G
niggas into stars, and
F#
Sending niggas to Mars, and
G
F#
G
Nowadays the game done got hard
F#
G
Gm
F#
You get shot that make you hot
But where I'm from that
G
make you start
Before I be a pussy I'd rather
F#
rapper had the balls
Gm
G
F#
I throw me some guns
G
Get myself a charge
Gm
Never see me do that
G
Gm
G
F#
I came too far to look back
Gm
G
I did too much to get here
F#
20 mil in one year
Gm
G
100 grand in one night
Gm
50k in one flight
G
I've been trapping my whole life
Ain't no secret I be thuggin'
Gm
G
Ain't no secret I be hustlin'
Picking loyalty over money
F#
G
Money orders to my homies
F#
Groupie bitches be all on me
G
Leave your phones at the door
F#
You won't put me on no blog
G
F#
Once I fuck you gotta go
G
F#
3am ain't nothing open but IHOP
And a bitch legs, and my trap spot
G
I said 3am I'm trapping
F#
at the IHOP
And I'm connected to
the plug like a hotspot
F#
I'm a grower we don't do droughts
G
Birds in the sky we call them iClouds
F#
G
F#
You know the birds fly down south
G
F#
I took a bitch to eat at Mr. Chow's
I met the plug at Benihanah
G
On hibachi grills eating
rice and talking numbers
F#
G
I don't do no middle men
F#
And I don't trust no runners
I'ma pay on time and I won't
G
F#
never take you under
I'm an OG dope boy
I ain't nothing like these youngins
I don't take the dope I'm selling
F#m
G
I won't ever do no telling
F#m
Overnight my pack, yeah,
F#
G
we call that FedEx
I ship in the 18 wheeler and I ain't talking UPS
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AccordatoreE A D G B E
AccordiG Gm F# F#m
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4.6
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