Tonalité : B minor•
Verse 1
Bm
Unh unh unh
Dip sap nigga
You already know what it is man
Let's get it in
Unh okay unh
B
Bm
Write it grind away capisce
Supply the tray to eat
And push drums out the pad
like i'm trying to make a beat
B
Bm
Deep flippin' with her mommy
Who wishes she was Bonnie
Go pick it up from Papi
But pitch it all a blondie
B
Bm
Grippin' on a Tommy
For bricks she go to buy me,
keep thinkin' she Punani
Get missiles through your panni,
I'm sittin' in a mazi
F
Skittin' on Asanis, nutty professor body
Bm
Real skinnier than Gandhi,
who's as fly as me fam?
B
No debatin',
Bm
there's a pound of purple waitin'
Anytime that I land,
B
Bm
check the shines, I'm the man
And if these jewelers keep
throwin' me watches
I have too much time on my hands,
B
Bm
damn I'm that n***a skeezer
B
who ain't got the trick or feed her
Bm
If she isn't Vida,
C
Bm
she won't get a chick fajita
B
The kid is ether, banging out your whip
Bm
And speakers with a name
that ring more bells than a trick or treat her
This the hand I was dealt
They ask me who's my favorite rapper
I'm a fan of myself
B
Bm
Little man, you're an elf
I grip my hand on the belt
B
Bm
And whip your stupid ass out
Till my stamina's felt
Tell me who else is hotter fam
Fuck you if you're not a fan
B
Bm
Listen, I'm a mobster and
All my whips are Tropicana
That's a drop sedan
And Terry a chocolate tan
This shit so deep
I might as well call them pots and pans
B
Bm
Watch this band till the bezzy gleam vital
Come check this street title
I'm every teen's idol
B
Bm
Your baby mother bump me in the ride
B
Bug me just to slide
Bm
Try to make me a hubby on the side
You know what I do?
I take that honey for a ride
Upstate and duct -taped,
honey up with pies
Gene me up? Never that,
a couple of them tried
But off the bat,
B
I can see the money in they eyes
Bm
B
Bm
See money is my drive,
so I can smell a dope getter
B
Bm
You ain't a gorilla
B
just cause you's a broke nigga
Bm
I know some known killers
B
that'll flip for no thrill
Bm
Or bury you for your chain,
now tell me who's the gold digger
The kid is on his grind,
get slick every line
B
Bm
No matter what they throw at me,
I kill them every time
Bm
Cause I'm lyrically inclined,
they know Doola is great
Bm
B
Three albums on the way,
hey, get used to the face
Writer
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsBm B F C
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