Tonalité : B minor•
Verse 1
Bm
Call me psychotive but I'm bad,
nigga yo!
And I'ma do ya bad, black
And when I come,
F#m
Bm
I'm bustin up niggas to hear me, black
Ya should of never let a nigga see
if there was niggas and bitches and
F#m
Bm
bitches and niggas that hated me
Huh, I waited for my date to come- of- age
and now I'm of- age I can't es
F#m
cape the fuckin front page
Bm
So I guess that nigga D is up to hit again
I kicks the funky shit and coke,
Em
Bm
and stupid like I'm Gilligan
I'm P, supposed to hit a lick for a jack
The only thing I gained is the
F#m
A
pain of niggas comin back
Bm
Nigga lookin for they shit,
aggravated and pissed
F#m
Niggas they can't fuck with my clique
Bm
I'm here to break em off for chunk
A D- E- A- T- H- L- Y, a motherfuckin punk
And I be rollin with the brass
D
Bm
Don't answer with the ziggers in your hood,
Em
he break your neck to roll a
F#m
Bm
pass, nigga
Don't even stop to say
'Whattup?' cos I bust for the fuck
And pay some quick to light
F#m
Bm
a motherfucker up
Next time you stop me on your block,
I hope you leave the place
or be the next to meet
F#m
the Lord face- to- face
Bm
F#m
Nigga, I ain't the one to take no bullshit
Bm
Cos see a nigga like the D is game
F#m
Bm
to empty out the full clip
So when I come for ya, act like ya know
Sittin motherfuckin smooth to the curb
but you don't hear do'
Verse 2
Bm
I'ma bring ya to ya asshole (uh)
Do it like the G- to- O (yeah)
Bustin on that ass but still I see that
you don't hear me do'
(But you don't hear me do')
Verse 3
Bm
Bring ya to ya asshole (uh)
Do it like the G- to- O (yeah)
F#m
Bustin on that ass but still I see
Bm
that you don't hear me do'
Verse 4
It's time to fuck em up,
here it comes, BLAST, nigga!
F#m
Thump to your chest and they comin out your ass,
Bm
nigga
D
Bm
I grew apart, livin my life as a criminal
Niggas G to kill but still I see that
you don't hear me do'
So I'ma serve it to ya fat,
hit the deck, mate
Hit the deck mate,
F#m
Bm
call me Flipper when I checkmate
D- um divertin nine, Tre- 9, full Glock, Glock
F#m
My Glock makin sounds and
Bm
it don't stop
So nigga pass the swisha quick
and I'ma blaze til the motherfucker
F#m
Bm
burn me off my fingertips
Cos, see a nigga gotta saty high
I try to smoke til I can't smoke
Em
A
Bm
and then I won't smoke
But still I got my fingers on my shit
and click, click, click, ya die,
die, die, ya dead, bitch!
You tried to test the wrong nigga,
be a tested
Straight from St.Paul but clockin G's
F#m
Bm
down in Texas
Some think I'm talk cos I play it cool
Verse 5
Bm
but I ain't the average motherfucker,
F#m
Bm
I do the shit that niggas won't do
Huh, like pistol whip
a woodie for his bank
Then after that I gate and grab his
Em
Bm
bitch and do the same thang
And I will pain up the asshole
F#m
Collectin grips on my drips as I stroll but
Bm
F#m
Bm
you don't hear me do'
Verse 6
Bm
F#m
Ain't no mistakin what I'm bringin,
Bm
you motherfuckers still ain't had
enough
Verse 7
Bm
So I'ma continue to break you
off for proper ass chunk
May it be 9, may it be a gauge,
F#m
Bm
may it be a shank
Any way you come I'm in your
motherfuckin shit, mate!
Huh, a nigga bustin caps, smokin fires
quick to bring it to your ass and keep
F#m
Bm
on goin til your ass die
And it ain't no runnin down
dem backstreets
cos I got slugs to catch em with Carl
F#m
Lewis on the track meet
Bm
Huh, and still you wanna test a nigga so
Audi 5, nigga, hate to see ya go but you
don't hear me do'
F#m
Bm
Verse 8
F#m
Bm
Yeah, check it!
Outro 1
Bm
Em
Bm
F#m
Bm
Bm
Bm
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