Tonalité : F major
Verse 1
D
Bm
You lie so much that when you tell the truth
D
F#m
No one believes the shit you speakin'
A
D
Exaggerated tales start leakin'
out your inner mind
Bm
D
The same line you've been usin'
F#m
on these different women
A
F#m
Dirty snakes spittin' out
D
cold -hearted venom
Bm
D
Hoes frontin' like they virgin
F#m
cause they pussy tight
A
Think I don't know,
F#m
D
vinegar vans got that ass right
Bm
F#m
How bout these lyin' ass politicians?
A
Not a whitewater scowler,
got a couple of Clintons to
D
Bm
I'm huggin' my main squeeze,
exchange keys,
left for G and change
D
Bm
See I be that same nigga,
D
fuck the fame from around your waist
Bm
Ex change game and get richer,
A
we off the dough for the dough
D
Now what's the 4 -11 in the streets
Bm
on these niggas?
Still plotting, player aching and E's
dropping G's stopping, listen,
A
D
I'm pimped out on the mission
Bm
It's suave when we clickin'
shooting
a hundred times in the chest
with your tech?
A
How many necks you say you cracked
D
or is all that just a act?
Bm
Hoe as s, trying to show your ass
D
F#m
flexing materially
A
Like a nigga can't see through
F#m
D
that shit you claim to be
Bm
D
Friend or foe, let these niggas know
F#m
that A -Ball don't trust ya
A
F#m
Hot folk feels that high speed's enough
D
for all you busters
Bm
D
Feeding fabrications across the nation
F#m
to the young ones
A
And wonder why they shoot
F#m
D
up small towns like young guns
F#m
D
Stop used to, stop woulda,
F#m
stop shoulda, stop coulda,
A
F#m
stop baby start tellin' the truth,
D
stop flauntin',
Bm
stop treatin',
D
F#m
stop exaggeratin',
A
D
Bm
stop lyin', baby start tellin'
D
Bm
A
D
Bm
A
D
the
Bm
D
truth
Bm
Why do these niggas
D
F#m
be grippin' on my nuts so tight,
A
F#m
ridin' mo' dick than a pro bitch
D
and that ain't right?
F#m
Cappin', a minute ago you just
shook my hand,
A
now you're on the phone tellin' some ho
F#m
D
that we've been friends.
Bm
D
Nigga, I don't give a fuck
F#m
A
about your fake tails, cake sales,
F#m
D
or about the hoes you say you serve well.
Bm
F#m
D
And these bitches far worse than
F#m
what they seem,
A
sellin' mo' pussy than
F#m
the record label
D
Bm
Dreams, schemes,
D
F#m
on how to take a good nigga cream
A
F#m
Think because I don't talk a lot
I must be green
Bm
D
No baby, open your eyes,
F#m
A
try to realize I'm hip to all that schlick shit
D
It won't be no surprise
when you come to me
F#m
Tellin' me your dividends is low
A
Cryin', ho, stop that lyin',
D
cause I ain't buyin'
Bm
D
None of the shit you pop,
stop before you get
F#m
your ass dropped
A
Freakin' for a minute,
D
now I'm droppin' your ass like it's hot
Bm
You of Records for lyin',
D
Pinocchio ain't got shit
Bm
A
D
On all the jazz that you spit,
Bm
you make up stuff real quick
You make your folks feel sick,
you can't be trusted at all
A
D
If you got inches for a lie,
you would be ten feet tall
Bm
You need to sew up your mouth,
think about what you speak
A
Expressing lies bout the same
Bm
shit you said last week
Alright, let's censor,
D
Bm
you told me some shit, I'm still waiting
A
D
On the conclusion to the message
Bm
you was stating,
D
now you hating
Bm
I can see through your skin,
D
look deep into your heart
F#m
A
And let me know that you was phony
from the goddamn start
D
Bm
D
Constantly counting my pockets,
F#m
trying to scheme up a plan
A
To find a way to get my hard
F#m
earned loot in your hand
D
Bm
D
And you slick -ass pimps
F#m
I know you niggas debating on whether
A
or not to work your hoes
F#m
Just to get information
D
Bm
But the worst thing of all
D
When you lie to yourself
F#m
A
And then expect somebody else
D
to try to give you some help
Bm
Stop used up
Stop woulda
Stop shoulda
D
Stop coulda
A
D
Stop lyin' start tellin' the truth
Bm
Stop flauntin'
Stop trade
Stop exaggeratin'
A
D
Stop lyin' start tellin' the truth
Bm
Stop used up
Stop woulda
Stop shoulda
Stop coulda
A
D
Stop lyin' to start tellin' the truth
Bm
A
Stop flauntin'
D
F#m
I beat a killer player,
D
F#m
laid off in the cut under lo cust
A
Fuck, just seen this young nigga
D
get smoked for some hundred spokes
Bm
D
No love, oh well,
F#m
I guess he should've peeped it
A
Niggas start tweakin',
D
I'll get you high by this weekend
Bm
D
Seekin' to kill and destroy your decoy
F#m
A
Affiliated my name with this game
F#m
D
cause they put strain on the street boy
Bm
D
F#m
I just wanna live righteous
A
and buy just about whatever
But I'm faced with liars
D
Bm
an d never ending haters,
perpetrators and niggas with stress
A
Bm
Will I rest or will I continue to
D
live up in this mess?
Bm
I heard the world was a ghetto,
D
A
so I'm clutching my baby girl
D
With my pistol underneath my pillow
Bm
Here we go again, I'm all in
Now where y 'all been?
It's Mr. MJG, A -Ball, and we ballin'
For all of y 'all, yeah,
A
D
seek some gain, peep game
Bm
The truth will set you free, man
D
Bm
You like, yeah, yeah
Outro 1
Bm
D
Bm
A
Bm
D
Bm
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AccordeurE A D G B E
AccordsD Bm F#m A
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