Тональность: B minor
Verse 1
Dip sap nigga
You already know what it is man
Let's get it in
Unh okay unh
D
Dm
Write it grind away capisce
Supply the tray to eat
And push drums out the pad
like i'm trying to make a beat
D
Dm
Deep flippin' with her mommy
Who wishes she was Bonnie
Go pick it up from Papi
But pitch it all a blondie
D
Dm
Grippin' on a Tommy
For bricks she go to buy me,
keep thinkin' she Punani
Get missiles through your panni,
I'm sittin' in a mazi
Ab
Skittin' on Asanis, nutty professor body
Dm
Real skinnier than Gandhi,
who's as fly as me fam?
Dm
there's a pound of purple waitin'
Anytime that I land,
D
Dm
check the shines, I'm the man
And if these jewelers keep
throwin' me watches
I have too much time on my hands,
D
Dm
damn I'm that n***a skeezer
D
who ain't got the trick or feed her
Dm
If she isn't Vida,
Eb
Dm
she won't get a chick fajita
D
The kid is ether, banging out your whip
Dm
And speakers with a name
that ring more bells than a trick or treat her
This the hand I was dealt
They ask me who's my favorite rapper
I'm a fan of myself
D
Dm
Little man, you're an elf
I grip my hand on the belt
D
Dm
And whip your stupid ass out
Till my stamina's felt
Tell me who else is hotter fam
Fuck you if you're not a fan
D
Dm
Listen, I'm a mobster and
All my whips are Tropicana
That's a drop sedan
And Terry a chocolate tan
This shit so deep
I might as well call them pots and pans
D
Dm
Watch this band till the bezzy gleam vital
Come check this street title
I'm every teen's idol
D
Dm
Your baby mother bump me in the ride
D
Bug me just to slide
Dm
Try to make me a hubby on the side
You know what I do?
I take that honey for a ride
Upstate and duct -taped,
honey up with pies
Gene me up? Never that,
a couple of them tried
But off the bat,
D
I can see the money in they eyes
Dm
D
Dm
See money is my drive,
so I can smell a dope getter
D
Dm
You ain't a gorilla
D
just cause you's a broke nigga
Dm
I know some known killers
D
that'll flip for no thrill
Dm
Or bury you for your chain,
now tell me who's the gold digger
The kid is on his grind,
get slick every line
D
Dm
No matter what they throw at me,
I kill them every time
Dm
Cause I'm lyrically inclined,
they know Doola is great
Dm
D
Three albums on the way,
hey, get used to the face
Writer
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АккордыDm D Ab Eb
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