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