Tonalité : E minor
Verse 1
Am
Em
I'm in charge of this class.
I'm the warrior chief.
Am
I'm the merciless god
of anything that stirs in my universe.
Fuck with me,
Em
an d you will suffer my wrath.
Am
Get your Timbs on.
Put your goddamn white beaters on.
Em
Put that jewelry down.
Am
This is the motherfuckin' fight club
Bitches! Pump your butt to get me down,
round them up
Em
Like lambs to the slaughter,
round them up
Am
We need to maintain order, round them up
Put em out to the pasture
Pump your butt to get me down,
round them up
Em
Like rams to the slaughter,
round em up
Am
We need to maintain order, round em up
Put em out to the pasture,
bump some up to get me down
Your boy Rap, rip it up,
C
Em
I got more hustle and flow
than Taran Towers
Make em throw in the tower
because they represent cowards
Am
See, I ain't new to this, I'm true to this
I'll kick you in your gluteus,
disturbing the peace
Just like Ludicrous
C
Rappers be so pussy,
Em
that's why they got a uterus
No testicles at all
Am
because I'm here to fucking neuter it
Poodle dick, got your noodle split
When the ruger rip,
right through your melon
Put a stop to all your foolishness
C
Em
Recognize, you don't want it with me
I'm Marley, Marl, Paula, Perry,
Dot X, and Craig G
Am
What? You better never
ever step out of line
Cause you's a bitch
You couldn't even battle Kevin Federline
C
Em
It's pathetic, somebody call a medic
All I hear is flatlines
Am
Too late, it's just been deaded
No close cast gig, cause I body a fool
G#m
Rappers wear a lot of ice,
Am
but they can't drop jewels
Round em up
Em
Am
Em
Like lambs to the slaughter, round em up
Am
We need to maintain order, round em up
Put em out to the pasture,
once upon to get me jacked
D#
Okay, Queensbridge, Chi -Town,
give you something to bounce off
Deadass, these cats here rhyme,
they fucking mouths off
G#m
Crank G and Ralph Thaw,
without a doubt y 'all
Take it to the mat with these hacks,
Am
I box southpaw
Where'd he go?
C
You don't know,
Em
if it's coming left or right
Shut you down with verses
that I use to only test the mic
Am
You can catch your death tonight,
fuck all that exercise
I ain't scrappin', I'm clappin'
Bullets from the Texas fly
C
You should respect the guy
Em
Tryin' to disconnect the lies
At the same time,
tryin' to drain the world's check supply
Am
Get in my way,
and today you meet the heckler guy
I ain't goin' to jail,
there'll be no one to testify
C
Em
I stay higher than a satellite
You don't point to have doctors
checkin' for your plasma type
Am
Right, other than that, man,
I'm rather nice
But when you force me,
block'll be hotter than a fan of nice
C
Round em up!
Em
Like lambs to the slaughter
Round em up!
We need to maintain order
Am
Round em up
Put em out to the pasture
Bump some bucks and get me smacked
D#
The momentum swings
I only run with kings and
dudes with titles
Check dude for his vitals
G#m
Think he dead ass, his jaw is dead glass
But niggas ain't fight no more
Am
They took my .40 caliber,
C
but I had a twin
Em
I'll see it when the time is right
Am
I can only be polite, but for so long
Don't say nothing about me,
DJ play the song
Okay, kay, listen what I say
Record after record,
Em
check my track record,
take the flag check
Am
and I'll go to Bahama with my red mama
See my body, see my mouthpiece,
while I sit in this beast,
the Muslims pray to the east
I pray to my father
Em
who was recently deceased,
I also love my nephew and my niece
Am
I send paper to my daughter,
I think I need some holy water
And I would never send my team to a slaughter,
never
Round em up,
Em
like lambs to the slaughter
Round em up,
we need to maintain order
Am
Round em up, put em out to the pasture
Bumps up to get me killed
D#
I all bitches, swear I got no fittings
I'm still banging them fittings
Hit them R &B bitches
G#
and make em sitting
G#m
I was raised in a fort, New York
Am
Chose me to carry the torch
I got the canvas for the bullies,
Em
shorties in the trees
Fuck incarceration,
niggas die for for free
Am
Niggas die for this money
Niggas killed for respect
Got the low end of the shorties
itchin' to catch rats
C
Em
I met bitches that be spittin'
E
Em
the force
Am
I'm that bitch,
keep them feet on the block
Something hot for these dogs
and bitches and whatnot
D#
Where my dog at?
Where Molly Marlack?
Craig, she's a thot, ex -bitch, I'm all that
G#m
So where you broke -ass bros
best to fall back?
G#m
Fiendin' for the P like they fiendin' for crack
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