Тональность: E minor
Intro 1
Em
F#m
G
Em
C
Em
Bm
G
Em
F#m
G
C
Bm
G
Verse 1
Em
Uh,
me and my niggas tryna get it
F#m
G
Hit that house, n***a,
C
tell me is you with it, ya bitch
Bm
Home invasion, what's persuasive?
From nine to five, I know it's fakin',
F#m
Dreams of livin' life like rappers do
G
C
Back when condom rappers wasn't cool
I fucked
D#dim
F#m
Shireen and went to tell my bros
Shireen and
Let
It
F#m
Hot sauce all in, I talk rhymin', ya bitch
C
then we start rhymin', ya bitch
The only thing we had to
Bm
Then freeze that verse when
G
Em
we see dollar signs
You lookin' like a
F#m
Yeezy, come up, ya bitch
C
I know you come from, ya bitch
And that's a lifestyle that
Go at it, reppin' for the revenue
And go,
Em
Halle
Berry or
Hallelujah
F#m
Pick your poison,
Bm
Em
tell me what you do
Everybody gon' respect the shooter
F#m
D
But the one in front of
Bm
G
the gun lives forever
Em
The one in front of the gun, forever
Bm
F#m
Bm
An d I've been hustlin' all day,
Bm
Em
that a way
Bm
Through canals and alleyways,
just to say
F#m
Money trees is the perfect
Em
And that's just how I feel, nah, nah
F#m
G
A dollar might just fuck your main bitch,
C
that's just how I feel
Bm
Nah, a dollar might say fuck them niggas that you gang with,
G
Bm
Em
that's just how I feel
F#m
G
Nah, nah, a dollar might just make that lane switch,
C
that's just how I feel
Bm
Nah, a dollar might turn to a million and we all rich,
G
Bm
Em
that's just how I feel
F#m
Dreams of living life like rappers do
E -40 at the school
C
Bm
You know big ballin' with my homies
F#m
Bm
Ro
Em
Stevens had us thinkin' rational
F#m
Back to reality we poor, ya bish
G
C
Ain't nothin' casualty at war, ya bish
Two bullets in my
Uncle
Em
He said one day I'll be on tour, ya bish
That
F#m
Louie's burgers never be the same
A
Bm
Louis
Bell that never ease that pain
C
But
I'ma purchase when that
Bm
F#m
day is jerkin'
Bm
Pull off at churches with
D
Em
Pirelli skirtin'
F#m
Gang signs out the window, ya bish
Bm
Em
Hop in' all of em offend you, ya bish
G
Bm
They say your hood is
Em
F#m
a pot of gold
Bm
F#m
And we gon' crash it
C
Bm
when nobody's home
Em
Or holly berry, or holly blue
F#m
G
Pick your poison, tell me what you do
C
Everybody gon' respect the shooter
Bm
But the one in front of the
Em
gun lives forever
The one in front of the gun lives forever
F#m
G
And I've been hustlin' all day,
this a way, better way
C
Through canals and alleyways,
just to say
Bm
Money trees is the perfect
place for shade
Em
That's just how I feel
Nah, nah
F#m
Eight dollar mic,
G
just fuck your main bitch
C
That's just how I feel, nah
Eight dollar mic,
Bm
say fuck them niggas that you came with
Em
That's just how I feel, nah
Nah
F#m
Eight dollar mic,
G
just make that lane switch
C
That's just how I feel, nah
Eight dollar mic,
Bm
turn to a million and we all rich
Em
That's just how I feel
Be the last one out to get this dough,
no way
F#m
Love one of your bucket
G
-headed hoes, no way
then we break the code, no way
Bm
Hit the brakes when they on patrol,
Em
Be the last one out to get this dough,
no way
F#m
Love one of your bucket
G
-headed hoes, no way
then we break the code, no way
A
Bm
Hit the brakes when they on patrol,
no way
Em
Magic rock up in them
projects with them niggas
Pick your pockets,
F#m
Bm
Claus, don't miss them stockings
Em
Liquor spilling, pistols popping, baking soda
Y 'all are whipping,
ain't no turkey on
F#m
Bm
My homeboy just domed a nigga,
Em
Pops with cocaine residue,
everyday I'm hustling
F#m
G
What else is a thug to do when you eating
cheese from the government?
Em
Gotta put five for my dawg and them,
get the fuck up out my way, bitch
F#m
D
Got that drum and I got them bands,
G
D
just like a parade, bitch
Em
Drop that work up in the bushes,
hope them boys don't see my stash
F#m
If they do, tell the truth,
G
this the last time you might see my ass
C
From the gardens where the grass ain't cut,
them serpents lurkin', bluh
Bm
Bitches sellin' pussy, niggas sellin' drugs,
but it's all good
Em
Broken promises, still you're watchin',
tell you what time it is
Take your
F#m
Bm
J's and tell you to kick
Em
it where a felaka is
In the streets with a heater
Bm
under my dungarees
F#m
Bm
Dreams of me gettin' shaded
under a money drip
Em
Hol la baron or holla dude
F#m
Pick your poison.
G
C
Tell me what you do
Everybody don't respect the shooter,
Bm
G
Em
but the one in front of the gun lives forever
F#m
G
And I've been hustling all day
C
This a way better way through canals and alleyways just
Bm
to say money trees is the perfect place for shade
And that's just how I feel
Ken, just bring my car back man. I called in for another appointment.
I figured you wasn't gonna be back here on time anyway.
Look, shit, shit,
I just want to get out the house man.
This man is on one, he's feeling good,
and a motherfucker.
Shit, I'm trying to get my thing going too.
I'm going to my brother's house.
Just bring my car back.
Shit, he paid it.
He's feeling good.
Look, listen to him.
See, he has hell.
Shit, he ain't even tripping
off them dominoes no more.
Just bring the car back.
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