Tonalidad: C minor
Verse 1
Dm
Am
Em
Am
Dm
(JRag on the beat)
F
Dm
What part of the game is this?
For real
Verse 2
Am
Dm
Am
Thought that we was taught that it was hoes down,
Dm
So how when that ho set that hit
Am
Em
down on bro, you froze up?
F
He put his life up in your hands
and you dropped him, cold cup
Em
Dm
He don't even like to ride
Am
with you in that old truck
Dm
But he trust his brother
Am
Em
You had a lick for him off with Ella
Dm
Am
From some bitch that you been fuckin'
Em
with named Janetta
F
Y'all on the Northside right now,
this ain't your type of weather
Dm
But your mind on you got this
Am
micro- pistol like whatever
Dm
Am
Clever, what you thought you was
Em
Dm
Lil' bro got them drugs
Am
Em
A fresh pack of blues in a jar,
he tryna pop the club
F
But you was tryna hop a tub
Em
Told him about your bitch
Dm
and how she'll buy all of
His poppers up
Am
Dm
Then call all her old partners up
Am
The money good
Em
All we gotta do is pull
Dm
up and slide in the hood
Am
Em
Once we get in an apartment gate,
F
it's gon' be overstood
You'll probably get you a new bitch, bro
Dm
Am
Make you some money and hit you a lick,
bro
For shit sure
Dm
And he agree
Am
Em
So they pulled in, but they ain't look
Dm
to the left up in the leaves
Am
Em
Janetta walk out and all you
F
see is ass up in her jeans
She got her friends with her too
Dm
We got Perks, we got blues,
Am
it ain't no way that we could lose
Dm
Am
Em
Shit, so the conversation started,
it feel like a party
Dm
Am
Em
Gave 'em three pills for a sample,
they gotta know we ballin'
F
She say that she want twenty,
lil' bro look down and look up,
It's a forty
Dm
You look over to the left, your
Am
door swing open,
It's two extra forties
Dm
Am
Em
Niggas start yellin', bitches disappear
Dm
You thinkin' to yourself,
Am
Em
"How did I let my self get right here?"
F
Lil' brother lookin' at your tool,
you lookin' back at him with fear
Dm
He thinkin', "Please,
big brother, squeeze,"
You take a breath and drop a tear
Am
Em
Now that pistol smack his face
and blood start to race
Dm
Am
Em
You niggas ain't movin' fast enough,
y'all ain't cooperate
F
Lil' bro done damn near lost his faith,
Dm
you ain't even
Attempt to grab the Drac'
Lil' bro fell towards the gun and
Am
the robber went
'Head and handed him eight
Dm
Am
Em
Now it's blood all on your dash,
they goin' through y'all cash
Dm
Am
Em
Your heart beatin' so fast and you in shock,
How this get so bad?
F
But wake up, nigga
Dm
That forty slap you in your makeup,
nigga
Pull you out the driver's seat
Am
and the robber pick
Your Drac' up, nigga
Dm
This ain't San Andreas
Em
You got your lil' brother murdered
Dm
tryna get some head
Am
Em
And on top of that,
you tried to finesse him like he
F
Was gettin' bread
He should've Ubered to the club instead
Dm
Probably look lame,
Am
but he wouldn't be dead
Outro 1
Dm
Am
Em
Dm
Am
Em
F
Dm
Am
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesDm Am Em F
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