Тональность: C minor
Verse 1
Am
Gm
Am
F
I got reasons, million reasons,
Am
why you gonna die?
I got reasons, million reasons,
F
Am
I'm still thinking
Gm
F
I got reasons, million reasons,
E
Am
please stop asking why
E
Am
I got reasons, I got reasons,
F
Am
reasons in my mind
Packs in the mail,
packs on the road
Connect FaceTime,
said he just sent the last of my load
The shit on my neck,
that come from the packs
that I sold
I never went platinum or gold
You still fuck with him
and you know he a rat and he told
Love when a nigga talk stupid,
cause that's when shots runnin' down
and he clappin' his pole
Trust me, that doesn't bode
well for a nigga
It's gon' be victims, I'm a street nigga,
boy, you know the difference
Hand around the throat of the rap game
and I'm bold, constricted
My soul is missin' and the top spot,
I got soul position
Man, this hoe is trippin'
She think I wanna taste her pussy,
I ain't
Tastin' shit like a cold symptom,
I'ma soak through that
Look, I got low resistance
Gm
Bb
with a Colt .45 Gold Edition
I'm a dope magician,
F
E
niggas disappearin'
if I hear him dissin'
Am
Kill an engineer and kill a nigga mixin'
And the six niggas still flippin' Nixon
Second strike, they finna Billy Clinton him
Red and white, he got the blues,
turn him into food
Everybody grip a biscuit,
runnin' lights inside the city limits
Bb
Am
F
I'm excited, my lil' shawty,
she the shittiest
Am
And we inside of somethin' simple,
what's suicidal?
Finish the sentence, door closed,
chop the head off a chicken
More is cold if I'm talkin',
I'm clickin'
F
Lights flickin', tell
Am
him, hold your position
Money motivated, mind on a mission
Straps in a lap in a pack,
got a lock on the back of
the cab and the doors
I lit a match for the torch in the game
for the real niggas,
only the fake get exposed
Scrapin' the plate,
breakin' the bowl
Makin' a shake, takin' it home
I'm in the A with the K, so
come on if you crazy
Cold -ass world,
goin' out, guns blazin'
Fuck is you niggas sayin'?
E
Goin' out, guns blazin'
F
niggas get done flagrant
even my son vapin'
I'm in my bag,
nigga, I'm done playin' with you
Gettin' rich off Zyde
like it's Space in the 80s
Squad jumpin' like Tracy McGrady
Ten chains on a nigga's face,
lookin' crazy
I still get a paycheck from Shady
Gm
F
E
Yeah, I got my reasons yeah
Am
My lil niggas is demons yeah
They pull up and shoot for no reason yeah
Bb
Am
F
I got my reason s nigga
E
Am
I got my reasons
I got my reasons
I got my reasons
I got my reasons I
F
Am
I got my reasons, yeah
Ha, you so thirsty,
you drinkin' poison, n***a
You ain't gangsta, stop kiddin' around,
bring the toys in, n***a
Luda's your daddy,
you should be happy
I'm givin' you playtime
But none of you rappers
could see me,
not even if I was to pick up on FaceTime
You wastin' time hatin'
on another n***a
F
when you could be makin' money yourself,
ho
Am
Featherweights, I make him levitate,
get spanked with a heavyweight belt, ho
And the crowd goes wild,
Creed II,
tell him throw in the towel
Cocaine is a hell of a drug like Rick James,
have a coke and a smile
Fuck your couch and
your whole existence
Gm
You leaving your family
F
and the kids defenseless
E
Headed to a early grave, now you
dead and broke
Am
Life beat him senseless, get it?
Bow down to raps dignitary
Cause Luda always been a visionary
I always knew you was a bitch
So I just read your obituary, nigga
Bb
F
Am
E
Yeah, I got my reasons, yeah
Am
My lil' niggas is demons, yeah
E
Am
They pull up and shoot for no reason,
F
Am
yeah
Outro 1
I got my reason, yeah
Am
Am
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