Tonalidad: D minor•
Verse 1
Dm
The royal penis is clean your highness
Thank you, king shit
Verse 2
Dm
Yeah, motherfuckers,
welcome to the United States of America
Time to roll out the red carpet
on y'all bitch asses
Hailing from the filthy, dirty South,
where the Kings lay
Ludacris, Disturbin' Tha Peace family
A
Gm
G
F
Dm
Recog nize royalty when you hear it
The throne has been taken,
F
Gm
so kiss this nigga's earring
F
Dm
Luda throw some grapes on
these peasants
F#
These bitches throwing rose petals
Verse 3
at my feet,
man
Dm
F#
They want to spoil me,
Dm
F#
treating me like roy alty (woo)
What I'm supposed to do?
It's such a sweet thing
Dm
F#
Work that track, whip 'em like Kunta
Dm
That's why they stay down,
F#
they loyal citizens of Zamunda
By way of A- T- L, if you disagree
Dm
Don't even look at me ho,
F#
don't pass go just go straight to jail
With no probation or bail,
but this ain't Monopoly
Dm
F#
It's Jolly Green Giants 'cause
we smoke so much broccoli
Dm
Uh- oh, Spaghetti- O's! Luda's oodles
F#
of noodles (woo)
And testing me is like
pitbulls put up to poodles
My rap career goes back further
than yo' father hairline
It's Ludacris (what?), I pack more
nuts than Delta Airlines (ow)
I'm fly, even when I get high I work cash
And even got my coats bumped up
to first class (Woo)
I'm boss to all employees,
and I'm here to teach the principle
Abm
'Cause I've been saved by mo'
F#
Dm
bells than Lark Voorhies
F
Dm
Man, fuck that nigga 'Cris
Verse 4
Dm
man,
Gm
G
Dm
I'm tired of this shit, man
F
Dm
Man, I try to rap for the nigga
F
I try to get a nigga tracks
Gm
F
Dm
He ain't hearing my shit, man, for real
Man, my four- year- old son can
F
rap better than that nigga
Dm
Man, that nigga garbage
Gm
Man, I got talent too,
F
Dm
the nigga ain't hearin' me
Man, is this shit on? 'Cris,
Gm
F
'Cris, f'real man
Dm
A
Fuck you, nigga, man, fuck you
F#
Fuck you too!
Verse 5
What you want to do,
scrawny nigga
But I got a arsenal of automatics
down to twenty- twos
Know how to use 'em, fight dirty as shit
A
I throw a grenade and all- in-
F#
one bury a clique
You see y'all got it all wrong like
women in tuxedos
Bbm
Bb
Dm
F#
And coming up shorter than
five Danny DeVitos
I'm on a cool ranch,
get laid more than Fritos
Dm
F#
With five strippers,
four wives and three amigos
I go scuba diving in Bays at Montego
I find gold links and snatch
'em like I'm Deebo
But I'm the light- skinned
version of Mandingo
Dm
F#
I've seen more Beatles and Jagged
Edges than Ringo
I used to run numbers in line
they called me bingo
Cause I'm big, you a little star,
you just twinkle
Old asses like sharpeis, y'all all wrinkled
And I stay with more bullets than
Dm
yo' Billboard singles
F
Dm
Ho that is just too
Verse 6
G
just gotta give applause
F
Dm
F
Dm
He is definitely all foreal, ya see
F
what I'm saying? Ha ha I be
Gm
F
Dm
Fucking with him all the time,
ya know what I mean? I'm saying, I used
F
Dm
To just now home come
G
through he want filters a purple,
F
Dm
He want quarters a purple now
F
I want y'all to trip with it
G
Man, I would of sold him a Coupe
F
Dm
we could of played with,
A
Ya see what I'm sayin'?
Verse 7
Dm
F#
Yeah, can I get a little hit of that,
Dm
F#
little nigga with a bigga sack
A
See piece of the bigger trap look
F#m
at that God be rolling on that
F#
Where they kick it at? And a lot
of people just don't know
Dm
F#
Shady Park you heard just don't go
Quick to flip the bird up
po'- po'
F#
Making the way for that rodeo,
that rodeo show!
Gotta hit 'em with a reload,
Dm
I gotta put 'em with the people
F#
Dm
A
I gotta make a nigga stop, drop, roll,
F#
oh no where the beat go?
Bring that, shit back,
didn't want to hear that, clik- clak
A
Tons of fun with guns
F#
Fuck all the lil' chit- chat get
back get that get that
Who knows, who goes there?
Motherfuckers it's Poppa Bear
A
F#m
Stop and stare, pouring out a lil'
F#
gasoline and then drop a flare
Come on, fire! And you know
A
I can't stop 'til I retire!
F#
Oh no, we stay swoll, rolling
on Vogue tires!
Right down the avenue,
F#
passing you rapidly stacking
F#
In the back of the Cadillac and
packing emergency action
Camera, light lights,
F#
A
throwing a punch and then fight fight
F#
Packing a lunch and then bite bite,
Dm
A- T- L stay tight tight
Verse 8
Dm
I'm just trying to save ya shorty
A
Dm
I'ma let you know it's real down here
When you ride down that
two- eighty- five,
And you go past Kincaid,
get ready to go past that Cambleton Road
Fo' you get it cut free
F
Dm
shorty just shave
A
Cause that where them real niggas at
G
Dm
I ain't lying when you in
Decatur and you flossing
Down Clintwood, Cambleton Road
F
Dm
or Boulder to shave!
A
Dm
Cause that where them real niggas at
When you're going down that ol'
F#
Nat Hill and you pass that
Second waffle house 'fore you get
To the rich niggas dang,
cause that where them real niggas at!
F#
Matter of fact,
just shave when ya get to Georgia nigga
F#m
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