Тональность: A minor
Intro 1
Am
F
Am
E
Dm
E
F
Am
Verse 1
a mothafuckin' cocaine pusher
Got work under the stairs
Got the gun in the bushes
Am
E
Anybody want beef,
Dm
come and meet the butcher
E
F
Bring the punk out of a
Am
Nigga like Ashton Kutcher
F
Fuck you pay me! like nasty hookers
I got that recipe they tell
Me "pass the cook book"
Am
E
Fuckin wit lil' weezy baby
Dm
E
That's a good look so
F
Am
hop your ass on the
Good book and sha mon'
F
I ain't really that nigga that you
Would want to front on
I put ya whole life on ya front
lawn come on
Am
E
F
Son on that shit that none on, gun on
I can drive the whip and work
Am
F
The tooly while with one arm
That's word to my mom
She worry if I'ma come home
I tell her don't trip
I'm runnin' this bitch
A nigga just gettin' his stunt on
Am
F
Am
Number one stunner junior! hallelujah!
F
Am
Fuck ya! I wish I never knew ya! PEACE!
Verse 2
bird in the bag
And the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the
Am
E
Magazine on my lap clear the scene!
F
Am
Clear the scene! Clear the scene
Let the g's do they thing
F
I got a bird in the bag
And the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the
Am
E
Magazine on my lap clear the scene!
F
Am
Clear the scene! Clear the scene
Let the g's do their thing
Verse 3
F
My hustle is gettin' gully
You fuckers will get it from me
I touch 'em with every dummy
My duffel is filled with money
Am
E
You pop your lip and get
ya man shot boy!
F
Am
I make 'em lean and rock
Like Dem Franchise Boyz!
F
You couldn't joust wit me
Nigga there ain't no doubt wit me
You run your mouth to me
I go hang you over ya balcony
Am
E
They got it out for me
Dm
E
F
Don't gotta spell it out for me jersey boy
Am
Got the whole city that could
Don't try to play homie I'll
Pull the eighty out, fade ya out
Put what you was thinkin'
Am
on ya lady blouse
E
This a great rookie, ransom,
Dm
E
pray for me
Am
Put this ape on like a bapes hooded
Merk'em all wit that dirty four
Servin raw, till I'm thirty- four
Am
That's a jersey boy
E
Dm
E
That's weezy f, ransom, grease yes!
F
Am
Hand guns, bland one, go ahead
Bleed to death
Verse 4
F
I got a bird in the bag
And the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the
Am
E
Magazine on my lap clear the scene!
F
Am
Clear the scene! Clear the scene
Let the g's do their thing
F
I got a bird in the bag
And the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the
Am
E
Magazine on my lap clear the scene!
F
Clear the scene! Clear the scene
Am
Let the g's do their thing
Verse 5
F
I'ma whip that dope like a
Nigga 'posed to do
Hundred thousand dollar whips when
Am
The boat roll through
E
Dm
E
Triple c's, my people we triple g's
F
Am
While you looking all crooked
My niggas they quick to squeeze!
F
Slap you with the four five
Bitch who you rapping 'bout
When it come to weight
When I rick ross max it out
Am
E
I'm the one that they askin' bout
F
Am
In the aston martin, weed sparkin'
Rick Ross will never ask you out
When I get your number I'ma come
And hunt your fuckin mouth
Am
E
You gotta suck dick,
F
if you wanna touch chips
Am
F
? 3 5 7 can't touch this
I9 5, I traffic my body weight
In the big body Benz
Am
Got the whole body laid straight!
C
Am
You straight!? I hope ya ass is
F
Am
I'll leave ya ass as is
Verse 6
bird in the bag
And the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the
Am
E
Magazine on my lap clear the scene!
F
Clear the scene! Clear the scene
Am
Let the g's do their thing
F
I got a bird in the bag
And the bag on my back
Got a murder warrant in the
Am
E
Magazine on my lap clear the scene!
F
Clear the scene! Clear the scene
Am
F
Let the g's do their thing
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