Тональность: D minor
Verse 1
Am
To all the ladies in the house!
Dm
F
All the ladies in the house!
C
All the ladies in the house!
All the ladies in the house!
F
All the pretty ladies in the house!
Em
Am
Uh, let me turn the beat up a
little bit.
Dm
Em
Now, but listen, deaf dude.
Am
Em
Ayo, metal face Akage.
F
Dm
Em
Uh, I'm just a traveling man,
Am
F
Dm
uh.
Em
Am
Em
F
Dm
Em
Am
The Rolling Stone with the poet poems
Em
Lift through a pair of head
phones
to face the road with
F
Dm
My rap sheet smelling like Folgers
Am
Every card be stangling
Em
Lift it when I walk through the rain
And chase the omen
F
Wherever I lay my gym
Am
Same for where I lay the demons
Em
all that I'm Eli otis
Dm
Sev en deadly pens I write till
Am
Blessed with selective vision
All I see is where to begin
F
Dm
I'm in the wind, tracing my sin
Em
to get you bent out of
Am
your consciousness
Em
Digital folders, fills to the brim with
Dm
Club phone, portable lines,
Am
straight from the novelist
I've been writing in my phone
Em
F
while no book is probably watching us
I know it's dawn,
Dm
Em
I must've waited too long
C
Mixing up the time zones,
Am
F
but I lose track of my days,
Dm
pick up the phone
Em
I'm losing track of my days,
I'm phoning home
What, what, ayo
Dm
C
I must've waited too long
Am
Mixing up the time zones,
C
Am
F
but I lose track of my days,
Dm
pick up the phone
Em
I'm losing track of my days,
Em
F
C
Uh, yo check it, second verse open a
Em
dimension where I can fit in
Am
Em
The rain in Seattle feels tactical,
Em
I'm leaving this afternoon,
I've slept in shoes
C
I forgot to kick em off,
Em
too used to sleeping in cars
F
Em
The genius is still at large,
I don't rest my eyes today
Am
in pursuit of better tomorrows
Dm
Am
They'll never miss your call
Dm
in seeking approval from bosses
Em
The victory flawless MC's
Am
with their technique
Em
F
until it drip through their coffin
Dm
Ayo, no days off,
Em
I've been exhausted
Am
Em
but still see the light through the dark
Am
like Brian Dawkins
F
Dm
You're checkin' into the States,
Em
who got you open?
Am
The water's toxic, build us a wall,
Em
don't feed the homeless
F
Dm
My body's intact,
Em
my spirit among the broken
Am
I don't feel the
Em
highs the way that I should
Am
But all the lows hit
Dm
the curse of the road trip
Em
Wheel spinnin', this vibe I'm on
Am
I still lie to travelin' man,
F
it's just a vagabond
I know it's dawn,
Em
must've waited too long
Am
Mixin' up the time zones,
Em
F
but I lose track of my days
Pick up the phone,
Dm
Em
I'm losin' track of my days
I'm phonin' home, what, what, ayo
Em
I must've waited too long
Am
I'm mixing up the time zones,
F
but I lose track of my days
Pick up the phone, uh,
Dm
Em
C
I'm losing track of my days
Am
I'm phoning home, what,
C
Em
F
Em
Am
uh
Em
Am
Em
F
Em
Am
Em
Am
F
Em
Am
F
Dm
F
Burt over your secondary Iron
Am
Not helping!
C#
What, you're too good to
How does that bad guy that
- Miss Van Dyne,
Eb
Am
I am not some common criminal
F
Fm
that can be distracted by your prattling.
C#
Fm
You are nothing to Doom,
and your pathetic attempts to
C
play mind games with me
Am
F
amount to exactly less than nothing.
Bb
So please, stop embarrassing yourself.
Ah. Okay.
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