Tonalité : B minor
Verse 1
Am
C
Ugh
Em
Am
C
Em
Boom, boom
Am
Tick- tick- tick
C
Em
Yeah
Am
Five- nine, ugh
C
Em
Yo
Verse 2
Am
I'm the verbal- spit Smith Wesson,
C
Em
I unload with sick spit
The quick wit could split a split- second
Am
Bomb with a lit wick expression
C
Em
You hear a "Tick- tick,"
then you testin'
Am
My saliva and spit could split
C
Em
thread into fiber and bits
So trust me, I'm as live as it gets
Am
Everybody claim they the best and they head
C
Em
the throne since B.I.G is gone
Verse 3
If you ask me, they "Dead Wrong"
Am
My flow is hotter than
C
the flash from the click
Em
When the hammer slaps the bullet
on the ass from the clip
Am
You wind up in a room full of my dogs
C
Em
I'll have you feeling like a fire
hydrant in a room full of dogs
Am
So come, come, now,
C
get pissed on, shitted on
Em
Tough talk turns to, "Can't
we all just get along?"
Am
You get blazed when the mic's off,
C
shot when it's on
Em
You probably ducked when they laid
the gunshot in your song
Am
My gun st- stutters when
it speaks to you
C
Utter shit to
Verse 4
Em
re peat to you
'Nough in the clip, to give a speech to you
Am
Me and Premier,
C
we kind of the same in ways
Em
We both speak with our hands
in dangerous ways
Am
Rap now is a circus of clowns
C
Em
A whole lot of lip from cliques I'd
prolly rap circles around
Am
I'm the next best to reach a peak
C
Em
Formerly known as the best kept
Verse 5
secret—I guess that I just leaked it
Am
(Boom!)
C
Somebody better duck or
Em
(run)
Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's
Am
bout to blow up)
Boom boom, bam,
C
Em
Am
God- damn! Royce 5'9" (boom!)
C
Somebody better duck or
Em
(run)
Somebody better (watch out 'cause
Am
he's bout to blow up)
C
Em
Boom boom, bam,
God- damn! Royce 5'9"
Verse 6
Am
I'm a motherfucking star,
I don't battle no more
C
Em
I provide the gun- clapping round
of applause after your show
Am
And we could go toe- to- toe 'cause
C
they calling you hot
Em
Stepping around all your punches,
like, "That's all you got?"
Am
Every day, I'm meeting somebody
C
and all of they peeps
Em
Quick to shake a nigga's hand
and show me all of they teeth
Am
And these bitches—I be
patting they asses
C
Em
They be all dumb and googly- eyed looking
at me, batting they lashes
Verse 7
Am
Rappers think Detroit niggas
C
not as down as them
Em
Or since that I'm down with Slim
that I sound like him
Am
Quick to judge me and tell
C
me that my hook might sell
Em
And say faggot shit to me like I look like L
Am
My advice, quit talking, it's over
C
Em
I was knocking niggas out when you
was knocking sticks off of their shoulders
Am
I got dirt done in my past, I know y'all sweat
C
Em
I got regrets older than some
of you so- called "vets"
Am
Niggas say I found God with the flow
C
Bring the police to the
Verse 8
Em
studio and bring
the bomb squad to the show
Am
Ain't a nigga touching mines
C
When you listen to my shit,
Em
you don't chew, you don't breathe
You don't miss a fucking line
Am
Every time I spit,
C
I tick to show you it's hot
Em
Leave me in the deck too long,
I blow up your box—boom!
Verse 9
Am
C
Em
Boom boom, bam, God- damn! Royce
Am
5'9" (boom!)
C
Somebody better duck or
Em
(run)
Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's
Am
bout to blow up)
Em
Boom boom, bam,
Am
God- damn! Royce 5'9"
(Boom!)
C
Somebody better duck or
Em
(run)
Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's
Am
C
Em
bout to blow up)
Verse 10
Am
Em
Boom boom, bam, God- damn!
Royce 5'9" (boom!)
Boom boom, bam,
Am
C
Em
God- damn! Royce 5'9"
Am
Boom boom, bam,
C
Em
Am
God- damn! Royce 5'9"
Boom boom, bam,
C
Em
Am
God- damn! Royce 5'9"
Outro 1
Em
Am
C
Em
Am
Em
Am
Em
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsAm C Em
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