Tonalidad: C minor
Verse 1
Am
Yo, this for all you haters.
Tell em, Mike.
F
Ba -da -ba -da, all these busters.
Am
Ba -da -ba -da -da -ba -da.
G
Yeah. Check it.
Am
Ayo, I'm still in them baggy jeans.
Still rockin' tiger hats.
Still tryin' to get them girls
in the magazines.
I'm on the block with
your patty cake.
F
You know I gotta put them 22's
on my candy -painted 88
Am
Cause I don't give a fuck
Still in the studio,
still banging out tracks for the buck, still
Dukes up, but don't shoot the fair one
G
Shoot up , you'll wear one
Shot up, we spare none, still
Am
On Lake Point,
still up in these streets, still
Live in Detroit,
still shit on these beats, spit
On anybody plus these fake MC's
F
All hanging with fake thugs and fake ass
Am
G's Bitches, don't sleep on the best
Cause you won't wake up
without a slug in your chest
Put seven up and you're
like a two -way page
G
And if you ain't know,
that's what we do these days, uh
Am
Hush, the one that loved to paint
F
Ridin' on cubs on that candy paint
G
Man, what you talkin' about?
Aw, damn, I left the next line out
Just a dog in these beats, you know
Am
Just another hog in these streets
E
Ba -da, ba -da -da, ba -da -da, ba -da
Ba -da, ba -da -da, ba -da -da, ba -da
Am
Now I got this rapper all
givin' in Sniffling,
cause I'll bring down this hype
on the mic just like Ritalin
I'm hungry, like those African kids
F
I hear this kid talking
but I'm laughing at his
Am
I told y 'all before, my flow is so strong
Y 'all waiting to hear mine so bad,
ya prolong
Go on, drop your shit, it still flops
G
Clean it up still, ya shit is still slop
way before Britney had gone pop
Ending your career,
so I'm putting out all stops
Ya crew on the sell so fast, I call cops
F
See I do this every year,
just like the ball drops
Am
See me in the streets of the shows,
it's all props
If I catch you even runnin' your mouth,
it's all shots
You came in this game tryin'
to buy your way in
G
But you gotta be dope if
you wanna stay in
Am
Hush, the one you love to hate
F
Ridin' on dubs, on that candy paint
G
Man, what you talkin' about?
C
Aw, damn, I left the next line out
Just a dog in these streets, you know
Am
E
Just another hog in these streets
Am
I'm just trying to blow up
in a scene with good rhymes
But you ain't dynamite on the mic
like good times
Cause somebody gave you a pass
F
Cause they knew that you were a
Am
bitch and soft as a baby's ass
Go ahead, get your tools to box
My whole crew will have you
jumping out shoes inside
I'm not playing, this is the real hip hop
G
East side all day until the clip stops
Am
Me set foot on a stage I rip shop
Till the roof comes off
and you feel your chin pop
Soon as you rhyme you'll hear a pin drop
G
You say your shit's hot? You lie!
Am
Your shit's not!
See? Ain't nobody heard of your team
I leave the stage bloody
in a murderous scene
It don't stop till the Dick Top
G
Got this rap game all sealed like Ziploc
The one you love to hate
On that candy paint
G
Man, what you talkin' about?
Aw, damn
I left the next line out
Just a dog in these beats
You know
Am
Just another hog in these streets
Uh -huh
E
Ba -da -ba -da -da -ba -da -da -ba -da
Ba -da -ba -da -da -ba
Am
-da -da -ba -da
Yo, Mike, who you sending
this out to?
You know, fake MCs
F
You think so? Yeah
Am
Are they busters? Yeah
Player haters out there? Yeah
Some suckers? Yeah
Why they got a front all the time?
Am
F
Me neither
Am
Thanks for watching!
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