Tonalità: Eb major•
Verse 1
Eb
Was this in them trees
These are the things
Cm
They held me vision
Seein' more things
Me and DJ Paul
Eb
We got the hook off
Cm
We gon' stee
We gon' play socidal to go slappin'
through thy window
Somethin's creepin' up slow
Db
It was a Lodus
Eb
Read about a hoe
Some sippin' on the women
Who gon' want to cross my fules,
attention
Not only was you weak
Cm
Need another nigga drivin'
I stop the car
Said do you want to buck em'
Rough Koopsta
Shirt I knew your hurt
Take the bridge back
Eb
Take a bag with them slugs
Sentence see your gone son
Devils in your Chris
It's the coulda me dree z's
Cm
Koopsta got em' stee
Make prophet me
See that's what you get for talkin' shit
Trick I drop you in the splunder
Db
Cut you up like Jerry Springer
Verse 2
Come, come who the fuck
They want some
Niggas want to jump, jump
Get'cha make ya pump, Paul
Cm
Still gon' miss ya bump, bump
Off a nigga fakin'
Goin' to a richin'
Eb
Bitches turn to shaken
Mafioso rule by
And he will act a fool
when he don't give a damn
Db
Cm
If your fuckin' red or blue boy
Couldn't buy the wet slide
Goin' on this best lide
Lord Infamous done with tight
Eb
When me gotta get mine
You know what I want
But do Koopsta gets it
Storm on this bitch
Cm
Like some new used confetti
Astronomical Triple 6
Writes space on top of astroids
Comin' to rip up the shore
We killin' the fool
So act a fool boy
C
Verse 3
Chorus x4
Stomp motherfucker,
Abm
stomp motherfucker, stomp
Abm
Db
(lay at,
move his ass
down to the pump)
Cm
How long gon' go
Verse 4
deep
In the North
When niggas stay drunk
And smoke on your portch
From on my streets
Wit all only peeps
I used to scratch
And throw down beats
I made a mix
With real deep bass
The noise I had to be slangin' tapes
DJ in this shit try to make that shit
Eb
Tone be speakers that stack they crates
Studio 9 was the place to be
Where all jocks were tryin' to get
The chance get on the tape
Bein' a fool
Keep tryin' i'm not goin' to quit
Cm
The club was packed from wall to wall
The gangsta walk is what we call
Whn niggas are buckin'
I'm still gonna dance
The third a fool
Db
Let's look if all
Eb
We took the club
And show no love
Just throw in our face
And gettin' refunds
They might want to fight
Later on the night
Cause Memphis playas don't give a fuck
Cm
Security junk
We smack the punks
For throwin' us out
For smokin' a blunt
The number ones on
It just cam on
Db
And now it's time to fuckin' stomp
Eb
Juicy's in the motherfuckin'
Verse 5
house
It's the peel yo
Motherfuckin' stand back
It's they fuckin' steelo
Cm
On your fuckin' ass
We can't fuckin' brag
Cause we comin' up
Robbers on my ass
Should I blast
Cause they runnin' up
Eb
Maybe it's my premadin'
No present turn to yo
With the sayin'
Saw your nine
Boy I call that kick door
I stick those
Cm
Bitches in my trunk
And now we back to my hood
Don't want the left they die yet
But he wishin' he would
Db
Eb
Wasn't in the mood
For this bunk shit
But these niggas had to creep
That boy they stupid
I sit, I leave these hoes for
a permanent sleep
Cm
And now we out the club
We gotta get em' up
Triple 6 and Prophet Posse
C
Abm
Ya'll know we
Abm
Db
make em' stomp
Outro 1
Chorus x4
Db
Eb
Cm
Eb
Db
Cm
Eb
Cm
Db
Eb
Cm
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AccordatoreE A D G B E
AccordiEb Cm Db C Abm
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