Tonalité : C# minor•
Verse 1
A
Writer, okay, uh, I got him, just that, uh
F#m
G#m
Back to the lab, wrap in a bag,
C#m
roll me a blunt, pass me a pack,
your dude's goin' in
A
I mastered the craft,
F#m
G#m
laugh at the past,
C#m
fo' in the trunk, mash in the gas,
you're too slow to win
A
Who's dope as him?
F#m
G#m
C#m
Late in the line, so high,
you would swear he had a license to fly
A
Look up, you might even
F#m
see him right in the sky
C#m
So high, I should give skydiving a try
A
Know why? I'm getting loot and bread
F#m
G#m
Got these little dudes fed
C#m
Cause this rap shit to me
is easier than Superhead
A
That easy?
F#m
When she move to bed, prick,
G#m
I'm on the grind
Grind
C#m
Lyrically inclined,
every sentence get rewinded
Rewinded
A
The kid is in his prime Prime
F#m
G#m
A monster on the track
Track
C#m
Taunting all these cats
Where's the competition at?
Where they at?
A
They all spin crack
Crack
F#m
G#m
The Carter couldn't match
C#m
Match Sharper than a tack
Whole Harlem on his back Harlem
It's a fact, you couldn't yell
R or shit, it's whack
I helped build the team
and put Harlem on the map
Come holla at a Mack,
F#m
who got this in the raps
C#m
The next album
F#m
A
I had your girl polishin' his plaits
F#m
Uh, uh, then it's right to the street
G#m
C#m
Light on my feet,
goonies that'll light you for cheap
A
Wipe you deceased,
F#m
knife you to sleep
G#m
Put some sneaks
C#m
even though my pockets deep
A
It's Barry White on the beat, sheesh
F#m
I'm a beast with a flow like a jazz
G#m
C#m
Puss the game so weak
that the throne's up for grabs
A
So I'm low on the ass,
F#m
C#m
with the toast on my abs
Waitin' for the spit
so I can put the hoe in the bag
A
It's sad, but nigga,
F#m
G#m
I'm a pro with the past
C#m
Put the mic there,
you're washed up and old as my dad
A
You're loaded with swag,
F#m
G#m
you couldn't fly without a pilot
C#m
You're bummed out
and better off finding you a stylist
A
F#m
The future is me, and tuners can be
G#m
C#m
Ruge an d T, shoot you for free,
salute to the G
A
Who's nothing but nicer,
F#m
gunnin' the cypher
G#m
C#m
Bot tom line,
ain't nobody out as hungry as Ryder
F#m
Uh! Huh, you hear that, man?
C#m
A
Y 'all can't fuck with me at all, man
F#m
A
C#m
F#m
I got this shit on lock and key
And I think I might've lost the key,
so y 'all assed out, man
Huh
C#m
Let me get my zone though, man
Let me finish smokin' this purple,
countin' this money
And, uh, turn the music up
and get in my zone, man
Let's do it
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsA F#m G#m C#m
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