Tonalité : E minor
Verse 1
Dm
Morele, this song's dedicated to my Darkonejo,
aka Kanjo, Mr. Perterous Flow.
Don't trip, fuck these fools.
A little rap jam from my right
-hand man.
Vámonos.
A
Another vato's bout to bite the dust.
Dm
Fuck him with a cartel
A
that's murderous.
Dm
A
I hold it down in my Southside town.
Dm
Heard a buster got beef,
A
he know where to be found
Dm
A
What the fuck? Another drive, I was up
Dm
Killing everybody when the
weapons erupt
A
Dm
Don't give a fuck,
A
everybody catching lead
Dm
AKs, 47 rounds to the head
A
Dm
A
Empty the mag, holla at you fags
Dm
Thought you held it down,
now your body bag
A
Dm
A
Here's the plan, do the job so neat
Dm
Rid my enemies from the
A
poisonous streets
Dm
Time to chill, lay low on the deal
A
Dm
Cause Forensics looking
A
for my ID on the steel
Dm
Ain't gonna hap pen,
A
did a professional hit
Dm
A
No fingerprint or suspect to get
Dm
Am
All my enemigas get blasted up
Dm
Mastermind job, homie,
A
that's what's up
Dm
Think you callin' shots,
A
homie, back on up
Dm
Conejo, Enco, Porro,
A
fuck your whole day up
Dm
All my enemigas get blasted up
Mastermind job, homie,
A
that's what's up
Dm
Think you callin' shots,
homie, back on up
Conejo, Enco, Porro,
A
fuck your whole day up
Dm
A
Yeah, you all buffed up with your tattoos
Dm
A
So instead of catchin' one,
dawg, you're catchin' two
Dm
A
Little cock, smokin' dissa on the internet
Dm
I reach through your Macintosh
A
and break your neck
Dm
Pipin' down your bitch,
A
punchin' your moms
Dm
It's nothin' personal,
A
I'm doin' my job
Dm
Tried to keep the beef wrapped,
A
but you called me out
Dm
Now I got a infrared pointin'
A
at your house
Dm
Where you at, homes?
A
Bitch made rapper
Dm
I'm about to slap
A
you with a loaded clapper
Dm
A
In a three -piece, clean and dapper
Dm
Nobody at your funeral
A
cause it didn't matter
Dm
A
Tryna be a G, man you got no school
Dm
Acting all gumbalo, yes I got you the tool
A
Dm
En emy goes crack when the
A
caps show up
Dm
Haha, to fuck your whole day up
A
Dm
Homeboy, all my enemy guys
Am
get blasted up
Dm
Mastermind job,
homie that's what's up
A
Think you calling shots, homie back on up
Dm
Go left, wake up home,
A
fuck your whole day up
Dm
A
All my enemy guys get blasted up
Dm
Mastermind job,
homie that's what's up
Think we callin' shots,
homie, back on up
Gon' have to work us hard,
A
fuck your whole day up
Dm
Plottin' on your death,
A
it's a serious issue
Dm
What you think I'd only
A
lyrically diss you?
Dm
Charlie Holmes,
A
want someone to miss you
Dm
Pointin' at you with two
A
loaded pistols
Dm
You ain't worth a sixteen,
A
gonna point the beam
Dm
A
Between your eyes, Saturday surprise
Dm
A
Bring some tears to your half -eyes eyes
Dm
You get a new tux, perfect size
A
Dm
Got you a new box,
A
fuckin' with mines
Dm
Tryin' to clown with your bullshit rhymes
A
Dm
Used to do the bang shit,
A
then I did the slang shit
Dm
Rhyme shit,
A
now it's back to the gang shit
Dm
A
Roll deep with the S's that I hang with
Dm
A
With my conjo up a twenty -fifth
Dm
Little homies do the hideous shit
A
Dm
You on the wrong side of town,
A
man, you catchin' a clip
Dm
All my enemy guys get
A
blasted up
Dm
Mastermind job, want me fast,
A
what's up?
Dm
Think you callin' shots,
A
want me back on up
Dm
Go left, go in, go home,
A
fuck your whole day up
Dm
A
All my enemikas get blasted up
Dm
A
Mastermind job, only that's what's up
Dm
Think you're calling shots?
Hold me back, hold up
Kulejo and Kupo 'o,
A
fuck your whole day up
Dm
That's right,
A
Dm
Kulejo and Kupo 'o, imperial
A
Oleg Kulejo don't trip, dawg
Dm
I'ma hold these bastards down
A
while you're out of town
Outro 1
Dm
A
Dm
A
Dm
A
Dm
A
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