Тональность: C minor
Verse 1
D
Dm
Yo E -Merce,
Am
these motherfuckers are looking at us sideways
Dm
Like we confiscating their bitches panties
Am
A
I rain on the crowd
Am
bringing lightning and hail
Crucified to the mic with
Dm
a spike and a nail
Why I'm shine so bright?
I gotta write it in braille
D
Kill em, seize till I'm quarter,
spend my life in a jail
A
Use the budget for my record,
that's the price of the bail
Am
Cops hire a psychic
to spot a light in the trail
Dm
Of dead bodies I leave all
sliced and impaled
Like a rat trap,
capturing you mice by the tail
Am
A
Got you nervous and biting your nails,
Am
A
cause you're frightened to fail
A
Dm
ordering your mics through the mail
D
Dm
Thinking you're the fattest cats
with immaculate tracks
And abstract raps,
D
typing battle raps on Apple Macs
A
before I blow your motherfucking head off
Am
Grab Superman by the
Dm
chest and rip the S off
You saw, he couldn't stand
the pressure from the liftoff
A bitch with a mic,
always trying to get me pissed
Am
So we're the illest in the game,
where they're killing these
lames
They're drilling their dames,
teaching them the feeling of pain
Dm
Battle your crew, take home your girl
D
Ain't no use tellin' us
we don't own the world
Am
Yeah, I'm so sick with
A
this flow so infinite
Am
It's a whole different approach
Dm
for those listenin'
I throw sentences at foes who so sensitive
Plus I know when to just
roll with the momentum
Am
A
I spit a foul flow, voice hoarse like a dalgo
Am
Turn rappers to alpo,
Dm
you and your palo
Rallyin' your troops,
call up your whole battalion
The situation could get hairier
than ten Italians
Am
Tellin' my mercies back again,
A
and he's more heated
Am
Mission aborted like fetus,
Dm
no one could foresee it
I'm even hot as a 104 fever,
I'm ill as the leader of North Korea
A
My middle finger is stiffer
Dm
A
than rigor mortis
Am
Sick as a bronco fan
A
Dm
when they trade away Clinton borders
D
Dm
Crumbs can hate in my face,
they ain't say shit
That's basically gay as Clay
Am
So the illest in the game,
with the killin' these lames
The drillin' they dames,
teachin' them the feelin' of pain
Dm
Battle your crew, take home your girl
D
Ain't no use tellin' us
we don't own the world
Dm
Am
I'm so charged,
Dm
nothin' matters to me
Am
A
I'ma get charged for battery
Dm
with a bag of batteries
D
Dm
I'm eons beyond, peons get peed on
D
Y 'all rock neon, Tybo to Celine Dion
A
Dm
You're just a bitch talkin' shit
A
on your mom's computer
Am
I'll hit your chick in more positions
No tellin' what a bird of
sparrow will do
For some demigods,
I'll flip the bird of peril
Am
Got your bitch blowin'
dick till her knees hurt
A
Am
An swerin' the door, rockin' apathy
in e -merced t -shirts
D
We whole baggin' bag him,
Dm
got him beggin' for the magnums
D
And braggin' to all their friends
how intense the orgasm
A
revert the stage of Cro -Magnon
Fuck a preppy bitch in the
Dm
back of a Volkswagen
D
It's all part of the plot,
A
D
fuck a heart in the drop
Till the car shocks pop
with the harder we rock
Am
So whether illest in the game,
whether killin' these lames
Or drillin' they dames,
teachin' them the feelin' of pain
D
Battle your crew, take home your girl
Ain't no use tellin' us
we don't own the world
Am
A
This has been a journey
Am
A
Inside your girl's mouth
Dm
You better believe that
D
We're little sideways motherfuckers
Dm
D
Don't you understand who this is?
Apathy, emerse
A
Yeah, y 'all know how we do
Know what I'm H -I -State to CT
D
It's that raw material
Highly volatile
D
These artists are susceptible
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