Тональность: Eb major
Verse 1
Em
What up, dem joints?
You stupid for this one, boy.
F#m
Em
I got dollar bill in the house, man,
all the way from Delamo, man.
F#m
That's how we get down, nigga.
Tryna tell y 'all niggas,
Em
rich is a must, motherfucker.
Broke is never an option,
F#m
believe that, nigga.
Whatever you gotta do to get it,
Em
you better get it.
And all that shit you been hearing,
Em
Look, said I'm back in the booth,
nigga, the truth, nigga.
F#m
Cause I don't run from shit,
nigga, I shoot, nigga.
you heard I was with GZ down at MTV
F#m
And I'm the new West Artist signing CTE
Em
Well, that's all fact, nigga,
this is not just rap
F#m
Bum -ass rappers getting
Em
on with punchlines
F#
Nigga, I'ma drop 81 when
it's crunch time
F#m
Nigga, stop rap ping,
Em
give your wife and your son time
Rocket is here,
F#m
I'm the shade on your sun shine
Boy, I'm an athlete,
D
Em
I was born to pack heats
Watch out for black and white cars
on them back streets
A
F#m
Cause them niggas is tripping up
D
Em
with crips in the backseat
And watch out for red rags,
bangin' with red flags
F#m
Niggas come by swoop
F#
Rappers please stay out of jail,
cause y 'all can't take that
D
Cause when that child come,
F#m
and them gates rack
Em
C#dim
F#
A hundred ninety percent of y 'all
F#m
will get bitch slapped
A
F#m
And get fucked doggie style
Em
where your cheeks at
F#m
Man I pity y 'all, cause I done did it all
A
It won't stop to the lawn mow city ball
Em
F#m
To every hood rat in the hood
got a Fendi brawl
A
To me and Lil Dolla Wildin
while we switchin' cars
Em
F#
Until then I keep my gun on my waist
F#m
If your ass get out of place,
I'll put my gun in your face
Em
Put the burner on your tongue
F#
and ask you how does it taste
F#m
Have your ass meet God,
Em
then come back like Mace
F#
But, has a spirit though,
Em
I'm down in Jericho
F#m
Gettin' fans down there
Em
in them funny robes
F#m
What's up mama, your son done made it
The mixtape's bangin',
Em
F#
Now I rap for free, I don't rap for free
F#m
Em
If your ass got drugs, I rap for a key
Give me a half a brick, you get a half a spit
F#m
And if you ever play me,
Em
you'll have to blast a crypt
And don't ask me no questions
about Spider and Game
F#m
I don't get niggas been
Em
this real ones do the same
But whatever it's worth he's
F#
still from the turf
F#m
F#
And if he ever need his nigga
Em
all he need is a chirp
I'm the West Coast
F#
Jigga but don't call me the Carter
F#m
I bust a good nut and had
Em
your boy your daughter
C#dim
And niggas wanna ask me
F#
am I really your father
A
Hell fuckin' yeah cuz
Em
I'm really your father
F#m
And a mother too for baby mama in jail
Ten months ago
A
Em
I didn't have the money for bail
Now I got enough money
F#m
to send my daughter to Yale
Em
Wish I had a lil mogas tiny bowl in the cell
Till then he's still my friend
F#
I send him some mail
Em
F#m
Hope God save my life
Em
so I don't end up in hell
Till then I'm finna show out
Nigga this a blow out
F#m
Rap don't work
Bm
Em
I sell coke till it's snow out
F#
Thanks to GZ life is looking easy
F#m
Now I'm kinda weird motherfuckers
I'll show y how to respect the G
F#m
Till then East Coast to
D
Em
the death of me
F#
Motherfucker, motherfucker,
Em
motherfucker, motherfucker
Outro 1
Oh, yeah
Em
F#m
Bm
Em
F#
F#m
Bm
Em
F#
F#m
Bm
Em
F#
Em
F#m
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