Tonalidad: C major
Verse 1
Whack
C
MC's, let me tell you something,
y 'all want a trip with me?
Dm
C
Let show you.
La la la la la la
Man, I'm going for broke
like little kids be set free
Y go play and get dirty
inside of the sandbox
I'm coming with classic material like
Alfred
Hitchcock
Still my pockets are thin like
Chris
Rock
So I'm calling up
Samuel
Jackson
Hey homie, what's cracking?
Wanna be my negotiator?
Man, I'm trying to swing a
deal with the majors
You know, coming for some
real paper residuals
Cause in
America, this is what makes
you an individual
Sad but true, but once a year,
just like the flu
I'm coming on you and
your whole crew
Givin' y 'all somethin' to
bomb your head to
When you just killin', you say,
man, I wanna hear an
MC skillin'
Well, that's me, my whole
LP laced
Wild like
Grace
Dm
C
Jones when I step in front of a microphone
I can't help it,
just a I .E. inside of a brother
Listen closely and you will discover
that my skills are very advanced
My vocal tone will put you in a trance
Closin' your eyes will allow
you to escape
Catchin' my feelings that
are on tape
Runnin' like deer in the wilderness
Who is this poetic writer?
Birthday
Prince, alias
Soop the
Chemist
Man, I keep records like
Guinness
Cause the chronograph is
like an hourglass
G
Allowing us to reminisce and
C
witness how much
sand has passed I know it's hard to grasp,
but all us emcees
are like leaves on trees
Dm
Soon to dry up an d be swept
C
away by the night
breeze
But I protect my blessings,
got them unlocked
Thank the
Lord for all I got
And that's not just a cool speech
But I actually reached down
my esophagus
And pulled out
Chris and said
Yo!
Before we vacate this
You better understand your role
Which is to bless the instrumental
Bust at your full potential
I know you've been
mistreated like a rental
But that wasn't the billboard character
Man, you a soldier on these streets
Martins!
Martins!
You're complete!
Finally I'm getting my shit on
Finally I'm getting my shit on
Finally I'm getting my shit on
And it's in the streets
Finally I'm getting a shit on
Finally I'm getting a shit on
Finally I'm getting my shit on
And it's in the streets
Waving at those that have no clue
Trying to instruct me what to do
I return from my pilgrimage only to find
out that y 'all ain't through
Time's going by like cars on the highway,
air's beginning to turn gray
As you ponder on yesterday,
where your problems were minimal
But now they reign supreme,
it seems procrastination has suffocated all your dreams
Well I'm not a man who can
give you much advice
But you can go talk to my counselor,
Jesus the
Christ
I've been going to him for
twelve years now
He's cool, tell him you know me,
and he'll wave the feet
Finally I'm getting my, money I'm getting my, money I'm getting my, money I'm my, I'm getting my, money I'm getting my, money money I'm getting my,
G
C
money money I'm my, I'm I'm getting my, money I'm my, money I'm getting I'm getting I'm I'm getting my,
Let's
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