Тональность: Bb minor•
Intro 1
Bbm
Verse 1
Bbm
Simple minds get blown,
shattered into pieces
My thesis is thick like the Book of Eli
We live we die, we put 'em in the sky
Free your mind as a slave
like the Fourth of July
This a sandstorm created
from original thought
I bust boundaries son,
you just do what you taught
My vocab is powerful, spit shit subliminal
Slang therapist, my whole style is criminal
Fm
Bugged like Bob Digital, fly visual
Gb
Ebm
Mind body and soul,
I'm a strong individual
Fm
Come through in the final hour,
with gun showers
Db
Ebm
Stand the fuck up like
Flav to fight the power
Fm
I'm an activist, socialist,
Db
deadly ass poetrist
Ebm
Supreme Clientele,
I'm a goddamn vocalist
Fm
My thoughts are so heavy I
could change a generation
Ab
Bbm
The x factor,
Verse 2
we puttin' holes through inflation
Bbm
If you hit the rock bottom of the asphalt,
that's likely your ass fault
My lines are cocaine,
the flow is bath salts
I'm a for-sure Don, Don,
no one in your circle can box me
That's like an oxymoron
I flirt with building your empire
Gotta shake the snake in the grass and
spark sharks to swim by ya
'Cause every meek head that speak street
cred ain't bangin' heat lead
And probably cut like sweet bread
wetting their sheets spread
So nigga holla,
I coin phrases to trigger dollars
Its butterfly like the shirts made
with bigger collars
Women thank the scholar,
the broad stealer
Who laying them face down and ass
up like a card dealer
The time ceases,
I keep a bed with dime pieces
As I palm another phenomenon
rhyme thesis
'Cause on the contrary,
I get it popping like Dom Perignon beyond
Tom, Harry and Dick
Fm
You can declare me as sick
Gb
Ebm
Highly contagious Bath salt flows leaving
Verse 3
bodies
all on stages
Fm
Locked behind cages, Don of all ages
Gb
Ebm
Its Ghostface nigga never
plead in the cases
Fm
But I plead the fifth,
four-fifth by by the belt buckle
Gb
Ebm
Crack stone-faced niggas niggas
with the steel of a knuckle
Bbm
Go ahead an d chuckle,
Ab
I have uncle murder your goons
Gb
Hoes and balloons,
Fm
OD'ing on flights from Colombia
Pull your trunk through your neck when the
Gb
cartel's done with you
Ebm
Supreme talk boss,
verbal holocaust I'm a thriller
Fm
Have you jumping out, they sleep,
Gb
Wigs hand me a Miller
Ebm
Sick the dogs sitting in their shoes
Bbm
Fm
My iron monkeys spit banana clips
Gb
with thick traps like Terry Crews
Ebm
Silver backs with high tracks,
fuckin' relax
Bbm
Ab
Got a duffel bag full of guns son,
dipped in black
Gb
Fm
My culture rises in attack
just like a vulture
Gb
Fm
Ghostface the next Escobar or Sosa
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