Тональность: Bb minor
Intro 1
Fm
Em
Fm
Em
Fm
C
G#m
Gm
G#m
Verse 1
G
Em
Fm
C
gon' do (x6)
Verse 2
Gm
Fm
E
I keep seeing images man it's
Gm
E
Em
like I'm locked in a simulator
E
I'm the street nigga terminator
Is it in my nature to be another life taker?
Then I ask 'em why home invader?
Strapped with the auto and razor
These days madness,
E
Witness savage, blazing automatics
Ending this a highway traffic
Very graphic
I rob and kick a burglary kidnapping
They think it's just 'bout rapping
But sometimes we get to capping
Niggas snapping
You motherfucking bitches
make me bored
E
Gm
G
If you think the world is really fucking yours
Gm
G#m
If we must fill the morgue
Gm
Then we will fill the morgue
G#m
G
If we must kill these boys
Gm
Then we will kill these boys
Em
All who cross the path
A hypnotize blood bath
E
Try to reach and grab
You will feel the aftermath
G
I'm the trial, I'm the DA,
I'm the lawyer and the judge
Gm
G#m
If you want to feel the slugs
G
E
Then I let you feel the slugs
Verse 3
E
CHORUS: Don't make me kill,
C
E
Fm
Gm
G#m
don't make me kill
E
G#m
E
Gm
Em
E
somebody
Em
C
E
C
E
G
Gm
(x4)
G#m
E
What you boys gon' do
Verse 4
[Scan Man] Aw shit
nigga you done pissed me off
Now nigga now it's time for a killing
Buck buck shots blasting
Who I be Scan fucking Man
>From the Killa Klan
Got my thugs from the south
Heavily armed and caused out
Better bring it
When you bring it
Cause if you don't that
means you fucked
Cause those killers from the world
Won't hesitate to pop those slugs
Have yo mammies and yo
pappys
And yo motherfucking grammies
Fuck yo poppa was because
You too damn greedy with that money
E
Now I told you don't test
And you did something, pity
Blaze something about your motherfuck
G
The patience of this game
Gm
You be st to learn
Trying to have it all
You gon' fall
G#m
We gon' make sure of that
Gm
G#m
Hoe we gon' make sure of that
E
Decipher or stress that
Me blasting with my tech
You test
Em
E
I'll flex
I'll bring the sawed
Three buck shots in your vest
I'm making motherfuck
Gm
ers feel what I feel
This shit is real
G
Gm
Motherfuckers who miss
G#m
Consider them graves
Gm
Abm
Gm
Don't make me murder
Verse 5
CHORUS
Eb#
[MC Mack]
Fm
Eb#
Gm
G
Gm
G#m
G
Get
Gm
G
Em
C
G
C
your
Fm
E
G
Gm
G
Gm
G#m
Gm
dogs off me, pimping
It ain't no slipping
I'm running 'em on ya
MC Mack from the Killa Klan click
Got haters sick
Like they had pneumonia
Free me from this three way junction
Before I proceeding to take his life
And though I had them tear da any
thugs from the southside
Ready to blast on site
Weapons blasting nice and fasting
Got you dashing
Spray this boy
Calling up my band of
Hollywood niggas
Whatever they ready for war
E
Let's let's make a stain
A stain on the lane
E
Em
Youngin done hipped me to the game
Bitches choosing out the frame
E
Is it the fame or is the the cheese?
Hoes be trying to smoke on my weed
And know that Mac done
broke the laws
G
Or pay the dues for the things you see
Gm
G#m
Bitch please break your knees
Gm
G#m
Get off my chrome and get your own
Carla hit me on my horn
Gm
G#m
And said your momma ain't at home
E
E
It's a hypnotize, kamikaze
Prophet Posse, like the nazis
Em
E
You ain't with the camp
Em
Wack producers trying to fucking copy
Gm
Stop stealing buster nigga
Bitch go check the sound scan
G#m
We cashing check s and flipping that
Gm
These haters will never learn
D##
Don't make me kill nigga
Outro 1
CHORUS
D##
Fm
D##m
Fm
Gm
Fm
G#m
Gm
C
E
C
G
G#m
G#m
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