Ding! accords par 
Royce Da 5′9′′ 
N/A
Key: B minor•
Verse 1
Bm
D#m
Yeah, yeah, mic check,
Bm
one -two, one -two, one -two, yeah.
Turn me up a little bit, Bryn.
D
D#m
Yeah, mic check, one -two, one -two.
Em
Bm
D
Uh, uh, uh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
D#m
I like to say I specialize in rhyming,
you recognized in time.
I train till I'm in pain,
I exercise my mind.
Bm
I effortlessly write,
D
Bm
my weapons would be the night,
F#
D
so please be ware of them
D#m
Walk up in the fight club
in 8 ounce white gloves and
leave with red ones
Mood swing on the beat
soon as Preem prepares one
D
Pick and choose my punches,
Bm
walk away with minimal lumps
D
Pivot in' around the vocal
D#m
booth and trunks
Back you off me like a boxer,
nigga I overuse the drum
They call me Travis Barker
with the chopper
D
Bm
Knock away your tooth, do the rock away
D
or I will raze your roof
D#m
Rest in peace to proof,
he probably rollin' over in his grave
If niggas poisonin' this name,
then misfortunes are the fortune
and the fame
D
I'm too cock y to hit 5
Bm
'9 and preen
D#m
D
The new Rocky and Mick,
D#m
the dollar signs go ding Preen cut
This where your heart at, bitch
D
Somethin' you don't wanna battle with
Bm
D
D#m
You don't know this, damn I'm great
I don't like no fake niggas
This where your heart at, bitch
D
Somethin' you don't wanna
Bm
battle with
D
Damn I'm great
D#m
They say this is a wise old profession
So my flow is my whole confession
I rhyme like applying cold compression
D
You go away like swelling with pellets
A#m
Bm
D
From the thorn where it's yelling at you
D#m
Near the doorway to hell or heaven
Set me up, I know you thought about it
That means I gotta wet you up
and I ain't talking with no water bottle
Bm
Sit outside your house creeping
A#m
Bm
Come out and spit out
D
your mouthpiece
D#m
And I skid out to South Beach
Fuck your talent, I'm never going down
I'm a stand up guy,
yes I'm up for the challenge
D
Up cause of balance,
Bm
from tying my shoestrings to
D#m
D
gether when I was young
G
And busting the cannon
D#m
Your life is spun, the fight is done
You've been iced out by the nicest one
D
And I ain't talking bout Jacob and
A#m
Johnny the jeweler
F#
D
I'm talking bout letting the fakers
D#m
hear the sound of the Ruger
What you know about that,
I know all about that
Me and Tip feel the same, seeing
Tips fill the brain
D
It's like watching a movie,
Bm
but I don't make those
A#m
D
I just make the credits roll,
D#m
after I'm Oliver Stone, I'm the pedestal
G
D#m
You stand on me, I'ma flip you, pit bull
Put your hands on me, I'ma sick you
Bm
It's true, you not so hard,
D
Bm
I'm sensing you puss
D
As soon as you drop your guard,
D#m
in comes the hook
G
D#m
Pring, cut Cut
Em
This, this where your heart at, bitch
Bm
D
Something you don't wanna battle with
Bm
D
As if you don't notice
Damn, I'm great
D#m
I don't like no fake niggas
This, this, this where your heart at,
Em
bitch
D#m
Something you don't
D
wanna battle with
Bm
D
Damn, I'm great
Outro 1
Em
D#m
Em
Bm
D
Em
D#m
Em
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsBm D#m D Em F#...
Bm
D#m
D
Em
F#
A#m
G
Capo: 2
Transposer: 0
0
Défilement automatique20%
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