Тональность: G# minor
Intro 1
Bm
G
A
F#m
Bm
F#m
Bm
A
G
A
Verse 1
G
the shit is in my blood
A
The Congress couldn't cage
F#m
his middle finger so the judge
Bm
I'm rotting on this paper,
G
trying to kill him with the buzz
A
So I'm rotting on this hatin',
F#m
so I'm sitting up above
Bm
Cuz I gotta make it,
G
this shit is in my blood
A
The coppers come in cages,
F#m
metal fingers to the judge
Bm
I'm rotting on this paper,
G
trying to kill him with the buzz
A
So I'm rotting on this hatin',
F#m
so I'm sitting up above
Bm
G
Cuz I had to flip a few
to get us through
A
Prick, it's true in principle
F#m
when you can't do the rent
And your rent is due,
Bm
G
forget a interview, verse,
song, interlude
A
Listen, Buddhist niggas
F#m
who these hustlers trying to ridicule?
Bm
I've been invincible,
G
doing what they intend to do
A
F#m
A lyrical miracle, little nigga,
G
Who is better, not a veteran alive?
A
Can't match up what I'm measuring,
F#m
I'm heavenly supplied
Bm
I'm peddling some medicine
G
to ratting up your eyes
A
You wouldn't play corners
F#m
on an elevator ride
Bm
I can tell you ain't as wise,
G
A
the hustler is global, you're local
F#m
And only thing you're doublin'
Bm
is bothers, I told you
G
The soldier is sick and the
blow that I'm spittin'
A
F#m
HD vision is written,
your flow need prescriptions
Bm
Listen, I'm a pro,
G
that's destined to blow
A
Batter up your dough,
F#m
I'm nicer than whoever you know
Bm
Writer, I gotta make it,
G
this shit is in my blood
F#m
metal fingers set a judge
Plotting on his paper,
G
trying to kill him with the buzz
A
So I'm riding on his haters,
F#m
so I'm setting up the bomb
Bm
G
Cause I gotta make it, make it
A
The shit is in my blood, blood
The coppers cutting cages,
F#m
middle fingers to the judge
Fuck em!
Bm
Plotting on his paper,
G
trying to kill him with the buzz
A
So I'm riding on his haters,
F#m
so I'm setting up the bomb
A
I see you really came to kill niggas
on this one right here
F#m
When these niggas gonna learn?
Bm
When they gon' see,
G
A
they can't fuck with my n***a
F#m
The writer of writers,
Bm
J .R. motherfuckin' writer
A
A
You heard the man,
F#m
Bm
three albums lined up
G
A
Now n****s better catch up
Bm
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ТюнерE A D G B E
АккордыBm G A F#m
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