Tonalità: E minor
Intro 1
F#m
B
D
F#m
Yo,
Verse 1
yo, rewind back, it's a fact
I wasn't employed
I was trappin' in the trap,
duckin' the boys
D
I wasn't trappin' with the crack,
the customers annoyed
I kept them happy with a pack,
bundles of joy
F#m
Oh, you ain't know why
I been a rebel,
flippin' I'm so dope
I tilt the kettle, skip a level
D
How you gon' back me down?
I don't quit or settle
Clappin' sideways at these clowns,
twistin' metal
F#m
On your block,
them niggas dead you,
disrespect you
Come to think about it,
D
it's disrespectful
When I go to step, I ain't finna wrestle
Yeah, you might connect,
F#m
but I would disconnect you
I know some niggas on the East
who still do next tells
I hit em on the bleep,
D
send em where you eat
They kill you while you sleep
A million dollar loan
couldn't get you on your feet
F#m
Capisce?
Don't let this rappin' shit fool you
You come up out your face
then it has to get crucial
D
Get under my skin
I'll crumble your chin
Then you gettin' boxed out
like you under the rim
F#m
Again I've been what you
never was with the pen
Got your baby mother yellin' why
you fuckin' with him?
D
Stackin' up heavy, box it again
I had a man already I'm just rubbin' it in
F#m
This is the part where
it get a little tricky
This is a full contact sport
ladies and gentlemen
D
You gotta be prepared to die for this
F#m
If you believe in it, you dig me
It all boils down to winners or losers
What side are you on?
Yo, J .R., what's up with you?
F#m
I'm back, but for the contract
I used to grind crack
We'll wind back, you can see
D
I ball like contacts
I'm strapped and I'm
always ready for combat
If it's beef I get the heat
and clap at your LeBron hat
F#m
Cock the nine back and tackle
you like the linebacker
And crack you over your head
with a bottle of cognac
D
Your broke ass go half on the dime sack
I smoke so much you can smell my
breath and catch contact
F#m
Every time I rhyme raps,
rappers get petrified
Cause they bugs,
and I'm a thug that spit insecticides
D
I specialize in getting guap,
my pockets extra wide
And I push a lot of weight,
but I don't ever exercise
F#m
My pockets fat,
but they ain't on a diet though
The crack gang dying,
but the fiends still buy it though
D
Whatever man, I'm the weatherman
I supply the snow, I get a lot of dough
F#m
D
And I'm a pimp, nigga hide your hoe
You
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AccordatoreE A D G B E
AccordiF#m B D
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