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