Тональность: Bb minor•
Verse 1
Bbm
F
Whoa,
Bbm
Joyner, Joyner,
yeah, yeah, yeah
F
Bbm
Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day,
Bbm
Gb
I don't take back what I say,
Ebm
F
if I said it then I meant it
Bbm
All my life I want a Grammy but
F
I'll prolly never get it
Ebm
I ain't never had no trophy or
no motherfuckin' ribbon
F
Bbm
Fuck the system, I'm that nigga,
F
bend the law, cut the rules
Bbm
Ebm
I'm about to risk it all,
F
I ain't got too much to lose
Bbm
Y'all been eatin' long enough,
F
it's my turn to cut the food
Bbm
Gb
Pass the plate! Where my drink? This my day,
lucky you
Verse 2
Bbm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
Gb
Ebm
Give me some room, give me some room,
Bbm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe,
Ebm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
Verse 3
F
Back on my bullshit,
my back to the wall
Turn my back on you all
Bbm
F
and you finished
Bbm
Ebm
Back to these bullets,
it's back to the job
F
Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'
Back on my hood shit, it's
Bbm
back to the pushin'
These packs and I'm
actually pumpin'
Can't fuck with you rappers,
Ebm
you practically suckin'
You mighta went platinum but
F
that don't mean nothin'
I'm actually buzzin' this time
Bbm
Straight out the kitchen,
I told them the oven is mine
F
Ebm
I do not fuck with you guys
If I don't kill you, just know
F
you gon' suffer this time
Bbm
I ain't no gangster but I
got some bangers
F
Some chains and some blades
Bbm
and a couple of knives
Ebm
Choppers and jammies, a partridge,
a pear tree
My twelve days of Christmas
F
was nothin' but lies
Bbm
F
Bbm
I, run at you hard like a sumo (sumo)
F
They say I talk like a chulo (chulo)
Ebm
I live in Mars, I'm not Bruno
F
Bitch I'm a dog, call me Cujo
You play your cards, I reverse on you all
And I might just draw four
like a Uno
Ebm
Cállate boca mejor maricón little puto,
They debated the level,
I've been to ghetto to ghetto
Bbm
Looking for something I prolly could
never find now
Ebm
Shit get real up until the
beef die down
F
In truth a nigga just really want
me tied down
I've been alone and I nev
Bbm
er needed nobody
F
Bbm
Just only me and my shotty, I'll tell
these niggas to lie down
Ebm
Keep all the money,
I never wanted the lifestyle
I just pray to God that
F
my son'll be alright now
Bbm
I said ain't no love for
the other side
Or anyone who ever want
F
Ebm
smoke (Joyner)
Bbm
When I die I'm goin' out as the underdog
F
who never lost hope (yeah)
Bbm
You in the wrong cab
down the wrong path
Nigga wrong way, wrong road
F
Snakes in the grass, tryna slither fast
Bbm
I just bought a fuckin'
lawn mower
F
I done said a lotta things
Verse 4
Ebm
This is payback in a way,
Bbm
I regret it that I did it
Ebm
I done won a couple Grammys, but
I sold my soul to get 'em
Wasn't in it for the trophies,
just the fuckin' recognition
Fuck's the difference?
F
I'm that cracker, bend the law,
fuck the rules
Man I used to risk it all,
now I got too much to lose
I been eatin' long enough,
man my stomach should be full
I just ate, lick the plate,
my buffet, lucky me
Fuck you think? (Woo!)
Gb
I got a couple of mansions Still
Verse 5
Gb
I don't have any manners
Bbm
You got a couple of ghostwriters
But to these kids,
it don't actually matter
They're askin' me "What
the fuck happened to hip-hop?"
Gb
I I said "I don't have any answers"
Bbm
Gb
'Cause I took an L when I
dropped my last album
Bbm
It hurt me like hell but I'm back
on these rappers
Gb
And actually coming from
humble beginnings
I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning
Bbm
I wish I could say "What a
wonderful feeling!"
We're on the upswing like we're
Gb
Bbm
punchin' the ceiling
But nothin' is feeling like anyone
has any fuckin' ability
Gb
Bbm
To even stick to a subject, it's killin' me,
the inability to pin humility
Hatata batata, why don't we
make a bunch of fuckin'
Songs about nothin' and mumble!
Gb
And fuck it, I'm goin' for the jugular
Bbm
Shit is a circus,
you clowns that are comin' up
Don't give an ounce of a motherfuck
About the ones that were here before
Gb
you that made rap, let's recap
Bbm
Way back, MC's that wreak havoc
on tape decks
Gb
ADATs, where the G Raps
We need 3 Stacks ASAP,
Gb
and bring Masta Ace back
Because half of these rappers
have brain damage
Ebm
Gb
All the lean rappin',
face tats, syruped out like tree sap
Ebm
I don't hate trap,
Gb
and I don't wanna seem mad
But in fact, where the old me at? The same
cat that would take that
Ebm
Feedback and aim back, I need that
F
But I think it's inevitable
They know what button to press
or what lever to pull
To get me the snap though (lil' bitch)
And if I pay it attention
I'm probably makin' it bigger
But you've been takin' the dicks
In the fuckin' back, ho (get it?)
Bbm
On the brink, any minute
Got me thinkin' of finishin' everything
Gb
With acetaminophen and reapin'
I'm asleep at the wheel again
As I peak into thinkin'
Gb
about an evil intent
Bbm
Of another beat, I'ma kill again
Gb
Bbm
'Cause even if I gotta end
up eatin' a pill again
Gb
Even ketamine or methamphetamine
Bbm
With the minithin, it better be
at least 70 to 300 milligram
And I might as well 'cause I'ma
end up bein' a villain again
Gb
Levels to this shit I got an elevator
You could never say to me I'm not
a fuckin' record breaker
Bbm
I sound like a broken record every
time I break a record
Gb
Bbm
Nobody could ever take away the legacy I made,
I never cater
Motherfucker now I got
Gb
a right to be this way
Bbm
Gb
I got spite inside my DNA
But I wrote 'til the wheels fall off,
Bbm
F
I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy
It's the moment y'all been waitin' for
Like California wishin'
rain would pour
And that drought y'all
have been prayin' for
My downfall from the 8 Mile
to the Southpaw
Still the same Marshall that outlaw
That they say as a writer
might've fell off
I'm back on that bull like the cowboy
Verse 6
F
Bbm
So y'all gotta move (yeah), y'all
F
gotta move (yeah), y'all gotta move
Ebm
Ebm
Give me some room, give me some room,
Bbm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe,
Ebm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
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