Tonalité : D minor•
Verse 1
Am
"Shit! Rick!
C
Dm
Am
C'mon man!"
C
G
Am
C
G
Am
C
Dm
G
Am
"Ricky!"
C
G
Am
C
Dm
G
Am
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
"Help me! Help me! Somebody,
help me!"
"Ricky, Ricky!"
Bb
F
"Ricky!"
Dm
Verse 2
F
Blood of a slave, heart of a giant
Dm
Had to leave Aftermath,
Dre said I was too defiant
That was five years ago,
F
look how fast it go
Dm
Destroyin' Interscope, shot
myself like Plaxico
Gm
F
But fuck that, blaze one,
where the matches yo?
Dm
Hit the freeway and see
how fast the Aston go
Gm
Roll the window down,
F
clip off the ashes so
Dm
You can see all my diamonds and how
much cash I blow
F
How many bitches I fuck,
how many cars I drive
C
Dm
How many goons I got,
count 'em and they all outside
F
Niggas try to shut me up like Malcom
Dm
But standin' in the window caine
Verse 3
smoking was the outcome
Gm
F
Sometimes I get a little stressed
and pop a Valium
Dm
Hit Hollywood late night and knock
down a stallion
Gm
So niggas think twice about
F
my medallion or
C
Dm
You'll hear Cuba Gooding yelling "Ricky!"
My nostalgia is one hundred percent
F
Compton and zero percent snitch
Dm
Park a Bentley and the Phantom
on blocks while I use the pitch
Made the Cincinnati fitted more
F
famous than Griffey did
C
And just to think,
Dm
several years ago they tried to split his wig
Gm
F
Two to the chest, struck his heart,
one hit his rib
Dm
Then I blacked out, like a movie,
all I could hear
Gm
F
Verse 4
Dm
Feelin' all fucked up, woke up to a doctor
F
Dm
All I could think about,
was that the cops took my weed and my choppers
F
They want me to sing, like Sinatra,
Dm
I told the detective
Get this clear like Belvedere vodka
Gm
Them five shots,
F
they created a monster
Dm
Hell's Kitchen comin'
straight out of Compton
Gm
I seen Boyz in the Hood,
F
Morris Chestnut was a actor
Dm
2Pac was the real life "Ricky!"
Then they shot down the nigga that shot him,
F
I swear to God
C
Dm
If I'm lying then Compton is
New York and I'm Rakim
I'm from where niggas get
F
murdered over stock rims
C
Dm
And punched in the jaw
Verse 5
just for a cocked brim
Gm
F
Nobody mama let the cops in,
Dm
we ain't got no options
Wanted to be a boxer, but I was boxed in
Gm
F
Then my grandmother house
went up for auction
Dm
And that's what killed 'em,
I'm goin' back to buy the block then
F
Too many niggas locked in,
C
Dm
dig up Cochran and defend all my niggas
With they faith under stockings,
rather face
F
God then twenty- five
with no options
C
Dm
If Compton ain't the murder capital,
we in the top ten
F
Drive by with our face painted,
like a clown
Dm
With a tre- pound,
forty shells bouncin' off the ground
Gm
F
This how my living room sound, when my brother got shot down
Outro 1
Dm
F
Gm
C
Edim
C
Gm
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
Gm
F
Dm
Gm
F
Dm
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AccordsAm C Dm G F...
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