Тональность: Bb minor
Verse 1
E
Am
E
Am
Man I ain't encourage my brother to do nothin' fucked up. Man say bitch, my money retarded,
if the bitch don't fuck with her she ain't blessed, bitch
Verse 2
E
Saw her on the dance floor poppin'
Am
Hold up, stop talkin' to me,
E
tryna see that ass bop
F
She a big booty star on the
Am
dance floor boppin'
F
Hold up, stop talkin' to me
Am
tryna see that ass wobble
Verse 3
E
I'm rich, we're both grown
Gotta mail me your boyfriend at home
Am
Too high, I'm too gone
E
Am
If she don't ride with the kid,
I move on
E
I'm just tryna find someone
I can leave with
Am
I'm just tryna find
F
someone I can leave with
Verse 4
E
I ain't really playing with you,
don't know your name
I'm just tryna do some things to ya
Am
Take ya home, let you rep Taylor Gang
F
Let you roll up a plane
Am
Let you bring your homegirls
Let my boys run a train
E
I'mma real ass nigga outta
Pittsburgh
She don't fuck, I don't deal with her,
Good dick what I slang,
I don't even run game
I've been learned my lane,
hoes fuckin' up for fame
E
Hop in my ride then I go front backside
To the side got my money,
she love that
Am
Rollin' weed up first class
E
Taylor Gang nigga all about his cash
Am
Smackin' lil mama on the ass
Verse 5
E
I'm rich, we're both grown
Gotta mail me your boyfriend at home
Am
Too high, I'm too gone
E
Am
If she don't ride with the kid,
I move on
E
I'm just tryna find someone
I can leave with
Am
I'm just tryna find someone
Verse 6
E
I done threw a ring around my dick and my finger,
ya digg?
I done threw some bling around my
grill and my pinky, ya digg?
Am
Your girl end up leavin' with me,
E
you ain't a freak, where your friend?
Am
Gates slang, I'm gonna throw that
meat in her stomach for real
Duli Truck, I just wrecked that Chevelle
Flipped it with my wife the other
night, give a fuck can you tell?
Kevin it's your pipe,
well out in public won't notice she yell
Kept that on the tuck, no recognition,
I'm touchin' them bells
Give them to myself off the truck
or they come in the mail
Big booty somethin' on the
dance floor poppin'
Am
Hold up stop talkin' to me
tryna see that ass wobble
Big money pocket, got the lumps
Verse 7
I'm rich, we're both grown
Gotta mail me your boyfriend at home
Am
Too high, I'm too gone
If she don't ride with the kid,
I move on
E
I'm just tryna find someone
I can leave with
Am
I'm just tryna find someone I can leave
F
with
Outro 1
Am
F
E
Am
E
Am
E
Am
E
Am
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