Тональность: D minor
Verse 1
Am
Em
Am
Em
Am
Em
Dm
C
I thought a man's supposed
to have a heart on the zone
But every time she snaps her fingers
you come running home
What happened to your vertebrae?
I heard a story yesterday
You said you're wearing
magic clothes
and looking real gay
Identity theft, my man, what's next?
And you ain't even getting sex, unless
Haven to the last rap
Am
She wears the pants an
Dm
d leads the dance
C
It's time to cut the strings,
you buy the rings
And you ain't even got enough
to pay the rent
Oh man, she holds your money
like a rubber band
Dm
Am
Dm
If it was love, I'd understand
C
But she's usually a band,
I guess you can't see the plan
She tryna get rich and not do
shit except manipulate
And by the time you realize
it's gon' be too late
Am
She gets commands and you
Em
sittin' there doin' it
Dm
Guess you're just a puppet,
and she's a ventriloquist
in private and public
Swingin' on a string
and anything because he loves it
He's a puppet,
and don't think nothin' of it
Swingin' on a string,
controlled by what's above it
He's a puppet,
in private and public
Swingin' on a string,
it ain't a thing because he loves it
He's a puppet,
and don't think nothin' of it
Swingin' on a string,
controlled by what's above it
You started in the basement,
grindin' it out
Spent all your time writin' rhymes
that never came out the house
Dreamed of big things, cars and big rings
Plans with big wings,
gonna party, no doubt
You was feelin' half the love
of the streets
But the streets wasn't enough,
they made you change your beats
Change your clothes,
change your rhymes
Now it's too late to even
change your mind
They got you throwing gang signs
Dm
like you straight out the hood
C
You had it crackin' for
a week
and now you're played out for good
Singin' on all your cuts,
now you're doin' romances
Flauntin' money, lookin' funny,
doin' dances
And that would be cool if
it came from the heart
But you're screamin' like the sucker,
rearrangin' your art
Am
Em
You started off right,
there was a time when they was love
Dm
Can't make your own words,
can't make your own moves
C
He's a puppet, in private, in public
Swinging on a string,
it ain't a thing because he loves it
He's a puppet,
and don't think nothing of it
Swinging on a string,
controlled by what's above it
He's a puppet, in private, in public
Swinging on a string,
it ain't a thing because he loves it
He's a puppet,
and don't think nothing of it
Swinging on a string,
controlled by what's above it
Rich boy from Texas,
try and run the place
Knowing that he wasn't
even from the place
New England bred, silver spoon fed
Don't wanna do the work,
he wanna party instead
Dm
He wanna be like Pops,
we're real like props
C
Nice grip, nice gear,
coil rigs, white yachts
Dm
Went in the right spot,
he soon found out
C
Got gold bars, elections down south
It ain't sweet when the cat
and bird speak
When the puppeteer hears
every word you speak
And when you finally got in the house
Enemies poppin' up like you
was Oscar the Grouch
Am
C
You went too far to turn back
the title of a fool
And you rightfully earned that
Am
Em
But I can't get mad at the
Dm
cat that ain't him
It's probably all in the hands
Cause he's a puppet,
in private and public
Swinging on a string
and anything because he loves it
He's a puppet,
and don't think nothing of it
Swinging on a string,
controlled by what's above it
He's a puppet, in private and public
Swinging on a string
and anything because he loves it
He's a puppet,
and don't think nothing of it
Swinging on a string,
controlled by what's above it
Dm
Am
Dm
C
Dm
Am
Dm
C
Dm
Oh, to hell
Am
Dm
Oh, to hell
Am
Dm
C
Oh, to hell
Am
Em
Oh,
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АккордыAm Em Dm C
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