Тональность: D minor•
Intro 1
Gm
Dm
Gm
Dm
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Dm
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A
Gm
[Verse 1] From cuttin' solid
Verse 1
Purico to
stack Fritos
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Gm
went from grams to kilos
Mac in one hand,
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Gm
in the other hand grands and see- notes
game got my eyes wider
Gm
no tellin' what the fuck
Dm
I'll do for this money
Gm
stay posted up close with
Dm
killers and cut throats
Gm
the thoroughest bitches who
A
in they pussy stuff coke
Gm
as I cook and cut coke with the bakin'
Dm
soda Arm and Hammer
think you crazy? nigga,
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Gm
my clique's bananas
Dm
takin' over with the Mafia
Gm
hittin' niggas for they
Gm
the cockiest, it's obvious,
Dm
it's me, he, who?
Gm
confront frontin' niggas like "You want it? well nigga,
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Gm
me too"
Dm
what the fuck, I'm callin' your bluff,
Gm
niggas act like they stopped
A
makin' guns after they made yours
Gm
I'm sponsored by the NRA, DOA rules
Dm
Gm
grin and stand over your
Dm
coffin like "Hey you!"
Gm
tell the Devil I'm comin', keep it hot
Dm
Gm
for now I got my eyes on
don't stop.
Verse 2
Dm
for it
take the stand, lie for it
Gm
Dm
blow trial, get up in the chair and fry for it
Gm
Dm
never tellin' or snitchin'
rather swim with the
fish'n
mothafucka respect it,
the commission
Gm
Dm
Verse 3
Gm
[Verse 2]
Dm
Gm
Dm
(First 4 lines
Gm
Dm
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with Jamaican accent)
I buy and sell bricks with
Dm
Gm
my nigga P.D.
down with the team called B.B.E.
Dm
Gm
now if you want to join the team
Dm
you know you must see me
Gm
A
buy ya can't talk to FEDS or dick R.I.D.
Gm
It's a cold World baby boy,
Dm
fuck it, I'm colder
Gm
Animals on my back keep my warm,
my armor
Dm
Gm
Frank Lucas persona,
warmin' coke up in the sauna
Gm
A
trip against my team you's a goner
Gm
infact it's drastic
Dm
a couple Million in the mattress
Gm
Dm
with a safe dick I say fuck taxes
Gm
rather endulge in duct
Dm
tape pig tie tactics
crime pays
Gm
nigga, Nine- Hundred and
Gm
my destiny's vague,
Dm
will I survive or blow trial?
Gm
Dm
lay shot up, Puff cryin' in denial
Gm
while my enemies smile, buried in style
Dm
Gm
Dm
Gucci suits and cufflings
A
Gm
sneakin' drugs through Heavens customs.
Interlude 1
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Verse 4
3]
POP POP POP! warning shot,
Shyne mothafucka, don't
Gm
Dm
forget the name
Gm
stretch the Caine,
to cop the house and the plane
Dm
Gm
'till my Massacre, slain
A
brains hang from the window of my Range
Gm
fuck the FEDS, 2 green and one red
Dm
Gm
Firm tight, hold the dice
in this game of life
Aces suffice
Dm
Gm
paper's a must
Fallen Angels and Angel dust
Dm
Gm
my team do dirt to avoid
Gm
Million dollar portraits in my fortress
Dm
of course it's Po
Gm
bloodstainin',
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aeroplanin', Four- Hundred horses slow
Gm
Platinum cable, round table,
Dm
so all the bosses know
A
'cause they coke got too
much bakin' soda
Gm
they say money ain't everything
Dm
Gm
you fuckin' right nigga, it's the only thing
Dm
in God we trust, the Holy thing
Gm
I look into my enemy's eye
Dm
Gm
A
let 'em know you play fly you go out Kennedy style.
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Outro 1
Chorus 2x
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A
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