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