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