Tonalité : F# minor
Intro 1
G#m
Bm
G#m
E
G#m
Bm
E
G#m
E
G#m
E
G#m
E
G#m
Verse 1
A lot of rappers ain't shit, they just bullshit
They wanna step on stage
and pop piles of shit
E
But I ain't with it, so black quit it
G#m
Who pulled the plug?...
E#m
G#m
You know I did it
Bm
Cause you sound whack and,
E
fucked up with no class
Bm
But I get deeper,
Bm
stick a rhyme up in yo' ass
Light up your inner skull,
E
Bm
and burn up your rectum
MC's are doo- doo I never
G#m
did respect 'em
Fuck 'em,
like a bitch with no drawers on
G#m
Bm
So you want a tape,
G#m
G#m
stupid- ass with pause on
Damn, I cut you off on my radio
Bm
As I take a step back,
E
and piss on your video
Bm
E
G#m
Piss on the pop charts and fake material
E
Bm
Rappers know I'm stupid mad,
G#m
I'm gettin fed up
E
Bm
G#m
And fuck all your whack groups,
E
they get set up
Bm
Five at a time,
E
let 'em come with that cheap shit
G#m
Bm
G#m
Now 1 Adam 12, with
E
that fantasy street shit
Bm
Or rappers who try to teach,
G#m
and brag and pop shit
E
Bm
But I'm on 8th floor,
G#m
E
and ready to drop shit
Bm
Pounds and pounds and stacked
G#m
up with metaphor
Open the bag,
step aside and then let it pour
Hittin your brain like a current
through a lightbulb
G#m
Or any old bar,
G#m
plus your neighborhood nightclub
Interlude 1
Beware yo, you're talkin out of your ass
E#m
E#
E#m
G#m
Bm
G#m
E#m
F#
E#m
G#m
Bm
G#m
E#m
G#m
F#
E#m
E#
E#m
E
E#m
G#m
E#m
Bm
G#m
E
You say you make
Verse 2
this much,
and you make that much
You come in your white Benz,
and pull up like Cap'n Crunch
But I don't give a fuck; I drive a Geo
Now who got the best rhymes?
G#m
Tell 'em Leo
While you stand stiff like
Gilligan with no Island
I burn the MC,
who wrote your fucked up style and
Cause I'm a get the axe out,
Bm
and start choppin 'em
E
Call President Bush to keep
stoppin 'em
G#m
Whack MC'sget the fuck
out the business
Oh you with a major?
E
Now tell me what is this
Yo, I'm gettin busy and hyped up
G#m
While you gotta scream your rebel
tracks are fucked up
E
Measured unmeasured,
G#m
off- beat and left field
E
Bm
E
What dummy produced that?
G#m
That shit ain't real
E
I'm tellin facts,
G#m
I'm blowin up on your ass
Bm
And if your show is tonight,
G#m
I'm goin up in your ass
E
Bm
Just like an outlaw,
smooth rugged and raw
E
Bm
I never roll with a clown,
when I'm out on tour
E
Bm
I'm not impressed,
G#m
E
fuck around with that cheap style
Bm
That African tribe shit,
E
political freestyle
Bm
E
School is lettin out now,
it's three o'clock
Bm
Fuck all that weak whack shit,
E
it's four o'clock
Bm
Time to get paid,
E
the critic kingdom New York an'
While rappers try to talk I step
away and keep walkin
Bm
G#m
Fuck 'em! Male
rappers and females
E
G#m
Cause you ain't worth two cents,
a bag with seashells
E
G#m
Tryin to dance, tryin to talk,
E
tryin to rhyme
G#m
E
Tryin to preach, tryin to I'll
G#m
Tryin to teach, tryin to scream,
listen close chief
E
You're talkin out of your ass
G#m
Interlude 2
E
E#m
G#m
Bm
E#m
F#
E
Bm
E#m
E
Bm
G#m
G#m
Verse 3
Bm
Continuin, no fuckin bum can stop me
Unless you write in,
and tell the company drop me
But I don't think so, c'mon Freddy
I woke up at 8 o'clock, I'm fuckin ready
G#m
For any your whack shit that's
E
hard to sell
10 weeks on Billboard,
G#m
E
it's hard to tell
E
See I don't get mad,
G#m
E
the X'll get even
Bm
I jump on stage,
E
G#m
E
your dirty ass is leavin
You're lettin off steam
G#m
E
- oh yeah really?
Bm
E
No time for rat
turds, you're fuckin silly
Bm
Don't come with that phony Monie
E
macaroni Love style
Bm
E
Cause I'm a get mad,
G#m
stupid crazy and buckwild
Son of a bitch, step to me Rich
And watch the X flow reverse
E
and switch
MC's to the other side,
they get waxed though
You never knew I could rhyme?
E
You didn't axe though
I'm rollin all of you two- faced bastards
Ready or not,
that's why I always practice
Catch me off guard,
yo Sandman fuck you
I stand in the front while other
rappers they duck you
Come inside,
G#m
G#m
they try to sneak out the back door
E
As I get hyped and criticize
the whack more
E
G#m
Fuck 'em, I got some shit
G#m
for their black ass
E
White rappers too,
E
I got some shit for their whack ass
Bm
Cause I don't hold back
with tons of mega shit
Bm
Come on stage sway down with a weak hit
Bm
But you think you're fresh though,
you ain't jack shit
Bm
Smoother than Rhythm X,
E
Bm
go 'head with that whack shit
Aiyyo duke, you're talkin out
Interlude 3
of your ass
Bm
E
Verse 4
Yes, this is the one Rhythm X
E#m
And all you stupid- ass motherfuckers
who think you nice
E#m
I wanna see what you got
But I know you ain't got shit
E#m
Ain't nuttin but jack doo- doo
dumb doo- doo whack shit
But you step in boy,
and you get played like a toy
Outro 1
SEE YA! Fuck you
E
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