Tonalité : C minor
Verse 1
Am
Grapejacket, Grapejacket,
Grapejacket,
Grapejacket, Grapejacket.
The little brother,
his crime is predictable.
He's hungry.
He's been forced into drug life,
because he is a wasted hu
Em
Am
Em
Am
man being.
C
Bm
G
Am
You have not reached his mind!
G
Am
C
Am
Em
Am
C
Am
Em
Am
C
I'm creepin' to your shelf real slow,
Am
ain't nobody around,
Em
neither partner so ya know I pulls my gear,
Am
C
because it's time to make my move,
Am
thought I seen a car comin' yeah
Em
Am
But it was cool, smooth as could be
C
Am
A fat 5 .0, sittin' on some D's
Em
Three inches from the floor
Am
My plan was to steal it,
C
but I wanted more than that
Am
So I stayed posted till
Em
this Mark came back
He stepped in the car,
Am
he heard the click from my gat
C
Em
C
And don't make a move,
Am
cause Park this a jack
C
I gagged him,
Am
C
then I tied him from his toes to his head
Em
C
You make the wrong move, Park,
I swear, then you dead
Am
He knew what I meant,
C
because he didn't even speak
Am
It almost made me laugh,
Em
cause my victim was so weak
Am
The look in his eye,
C
as if he see the devil himself
About to pass out,
Am
Em
cause he was face to face with death
Am
C
I told him, give it up Jack, give it up Jack
Am
Give up the money and the car
Em
and the dope, Jack
Am
Yeah, and at gunpoint,
C
we drove to them outskirts
Am
He tried to get fly,
Em
Am
so I had to put in some work
C
Beware of the night time blight
Em
C
Em
I'm creepin' in your shadow so
Am
C
Am
What's up, Jack?
Em
Am
C
Am
Em
What's up, Jack?
Am
Call me a crook, you see a crook,
Em
but check me out now
C
I'm in them streets
Am
Em
Am
because my cribber was a crack house
C
So put your head,
so put your head up on my shoulder
Em
C
You see no pop,
Am
C
Am
you see no mama that'll hold ya
To give you love,
C
nobody ever even took the time
Am
Em
To get me grip so now I'm
grippin' to a Glock of nine
Am
C
I'm jackin' flues and smokin' blunts,
Am
C
it's like a pastime I'm doin' crime,
Em
Am
the bottom line is that I'm gettin' mine
C
You better duck, you better run,
cause it's a drive -by
Am
Em
The wicked shade, the 12 gauge,
your mama gonna cry
Am
C
She didn't know that her
child was a gangbanger
Am
Don't want the finger,
Em
cause my finger just a trigger
Am
C
Happy, and when I kill it, just a thrill,
Em
I never show no heart
Bm
C
Am
A young unfooler with the steel,
I jack up in the dark
C
I take they cop, I take they life,
Em
and then I'm out of fire
C
But when I'm caught, it's capital P,
Am
I know I'm gonna fry
C
I keep a comin', so keep a runnin',
Em
you better watch your back
I scope a hole in a horse
Am
C
Am
Em
What's up, J? What's up,
Am
C
Am
J?
Em
Am
They got me on the run,
C
young men, it's from the South
Am
They said on the news
Em
they found a body face down
Am
And I ain't sayin' nothin'
C
cause I know the 411
Am
A crooked young brother
C
frustrated with a gun
Am
And robbin' all your
fools for your money
C
Am
Dopin' cars and stayin' real low
Em
Before behind bars and rollin' my belt
Am
C
To let your foes know I'm on
with my right hand man
Am
Em
Mellow T with the chrome
Am
And I ain't scared to barbecue
C
you chumps who got beat
Am
I smooth roll up and take your
Em
bucket in a heartbeat
Am
C
Especially when I gotta get a pack for that lick
Am
Em
I rob that fool to get my roll on quick
Am
Then set up shop from twelve
C
noon to four -thirty
And stash in that grip
Am
Em
before them pigs catch me dirty
Am
I'm checkin'
C
It's just a game of give and take
F
C
Then nobody give me mine
So break yo self, Trigg I duck a foot
and then I'm cruisin' in a six -a -deuce
I peep a punker with a trunk of funk,
my pistol shoot
It's murder, one, it's robbery,
that's what you tellin' me
I got no lover from my pop,
that's why I'm killin' G
Am
C
Them P .I .G.'s my enemies,
they wanna see me dead
Am
Em
No homicides, a better life,
I think I got em scared
Am
The smoothest creep
C
I get's a Russia
when I jack a fool
Am
Em
I make a move up to my crib,
I see the county blue
Am
C
They beat me down like a Rodney
cause my skin is black
Am
I stopped the jackin',
Em
now I'm packin' and I'm sellin' crack
Am
C
I do my business on the blocker
like a John Gotti
Am
Em
The godfather of the circus,
like a QC party
Am
Them young 'uns fool,
C
they want some props,
I'm in my G -O -Track
Am
I feel the G .A .T. in my back
Outro 1
Dujaka Gajak
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