Tonalidad: C# minor
Verse 1
Am
F
Yeah, uh
Am
F
Am
You know what this is,
F
Dm
Am
right?
F
I don't really think y'all niggas
Bdim
Bm
ready
G
E
Verse 2
Bm
D
Am
D
Yo, I stole a pack, then I sold it back, uh
F
We roll in Lacs and got fold up
gats with shoulder straps
Am
It's Griselda, bitch,
F
y'all know the stats
Am
F
I need my safe overflow with racks and
Dm
a yacht with a speedboat attached
F
Am
We watched niggas eating,
now we getting even
F
We watched our mothers cry,
Am
but that just made us risk our freedom
F
The .40 blow, you get ripped to pieces,
Am
hit and leaking
Dm
D
Have your family in this bitch grieving,
hugging pics of Jesus
My shit the deepest,
Am
F
my shit for thinkers, reachers
This shit you simple niggas probably
Am
couldn't grip with tweezers
F
I took dope charges and I
Am
caught state cases
F
Bb
Dm
We did stickups when we was kids and
F
bought Playstations
Treat your bitch crib like a truck
stop weigh station
Safe haven, if we trade places,
that's a vacation
Bm
You know the science,
my soldiers riot
And the best done got finessed,
I threw more curve balls than Nolan Ryan
D
Growing up, we was so defiant,
Am
holding iron
F
My chest poking out while I smoke the finest,
Am
you know you dying
F
We cold as iron, you show up with me,
Am
you know you buying
F
Dm
Uh, I take one brick and multiply it
Am
The realest shit of life might
be the realest shit I write
F
At the Knicks game, so close,
Dm
F
I'm spilling shit on Spike
Am
And I'm killing shit on spite, uh,
Bb
Glock 19 with the silencer, nigga
D
Am
D
And I just twisted it on type with the MAC
Verse 3
F
yo, yo, yo, yo (yeah)
Am
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (goodnight)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (y'all niggas, y'all
ain't ready)
F
Dm
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Verse 4
Am
Listen, dawg,
we really came from grave conditions
F
Ran the trap like offence
Dm
and I'm Lane Kiffin
Bdim
Waiting on the law, for Chris Paul,
Bm
guess I'm Blake Griffin
G
The TEC shoot from AK distance,
Bm
so I can't miss ya
Am
Yeah, it's me,
D
I make these niggas feel like I'm a problem
Dm
Don't like you, we wildin',
opposed to drinking right from the bottle
Am
F
Rock the Gucci polo with
the snake right on the collar
'Lo top,
Dm
blue 9's with the white on the bot tom
Adim
Niggas hurt, they in they feelings,
F
they don't like how I'm stylin'
Bb
Dm
Got a bitch bad as Rihanna, got
F
her right from the is land
Am
F
I been in prison fights where niggas
got sliced and then holler
Bb
We broke bread and shared
D
blood just like we Italian, uh
We was Nextelers, now
Dm
Making deal with label execs,
F
Am
our check mailers
One of the best, that's a bet,
F
I don't swear, never
Dm
I can read a sucker nigga like
Am
a New York bestseller
We jetsetters, street niggas,
we just dress better
Dm
Eating lamb, ain't no dressing on my salad,
Bm
Gun plastic, vest metal, GxF Rebel
G
And we hitting family members,
Bm
D
so you know it's next level, pussy
Am
D
Am
Verse 5
F
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (goodnight)
Am
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
D
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Dm
Am
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
F
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
D
Am
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
D
Adim
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
D
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Am
Dm
Am
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
F
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
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