Tonart: Bb minor
Verse 1
Bm
Push Impalas and Caprices
(believe that daddy)
D
Bm
Starch flat, no creases
G
D
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Got that work,
you a D boy (believe that daddy)
D
F#
D
You a H- O- T Boy
G
D
(believe that daddy)
Bm
You a pimp, you got them hoes
(believe that daddy)
D
That's that weed smell in your
Em
Bm
clothes (believe that daddy)
Bet a hundred,
shoot a hundred (believe that daddy)
D
Bm
This my block, I run it
(believe that daddy)
G
Got them 20s on ya ride
(believe that daddy)
D
C#
D
G
Croc or gator in side
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Fine bitch, bowleg (be
G
lieve that daddy)
D
G
And she go both ways
(believe that daddy)
D
Bm
Slugged up in the front
(believe that daddy)
D
G
Bm
G
Got a trunk full of bump
Bm
(believe that daddy)
Got cribs, cars, bikes,
C#
dykes (believe that daddy)
D
Bm
'Cause that's what hoes like
(believe that daddy)
Now I do it for the ladies, do it for the ladies
D
Bm
I do 'cause I want to push
a Caddy or Mercedes
D
Bm
I do it for my dudes,
do it for my dudes
D
All my niggas on the block that got
Bm
D
F#m
Bm
that work to move
Verse 2
Bm
It's Weezy, baby,
D
young'n from the Dirty South
Get up your dough,
Bm
F#m
I'm putting birdies out
Bm
Like thirty in my mouth, so I can say
Fuck you, bitch,
D
F#m
Bm
G
Em
you still ain't got a dirty mouth
D
Bm
The hood still ain't got over the drought
So you should sleep on your roof,
C#
Bm
just to watch over ya house
Nigga, we Tymin', the cost of my
watch over ya house
D
I'm a boss man,
Bm
I watch over the South
Jazze Pha, let's hop in the Lamby
D
Stop by Sammy, chill in the hood,
Bm
you good, you family
F#m
Bm
My boys like to pull them
blammies, and big pimp
G
D
Bm
Mami suck dick 'til she
G
Bm
pull your hammy, homey
You know we only keepin' it gangsta
D
G
Bm
Deep in the Range, 17 in the chamber
D
All I need is my banger, nigga, it's Weezy
F#m
Bm
F#m
This shit over, somebody king me
Bm
Push Impalas and
Verse 3
Bm
Caprices
(believe that daddy)
D
Bm
G
Starch flat, no creases
Bm
G
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Got that work,
you a D boy (believe that daddy)
D
F#
F#m
You a H- O- T Boy
D
(believe that daddy)
Bm
You a pimp, you got them hoes
(believe that daddy)
D
That's that weed smell in your clothes
G
Bm
(believe that daddy)
Bet a hundred,
shoot a hundred (believe that daddy)
D
This my block,
Bm
I run it (believe that daddy)
G
Got them 20s on ya ride
(believe that daddy)
D
G
Croc or gator in side
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Fine bitch, bowleg (believe that daddy)
D
G
And she go both ways
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Slugged up in the front
(believe that daddy)
D
G
Got a trunk full of bump
Bm
(believe that daddy)
Got cribs, cars, bikes,
dykes (believe that daddy)
D
'Cause that's what hoes like
Bm
(believe that daddy)
Now I do it for the ladies,
do it for the ladies
D
Bm
I do it 'cause I want to
push a Caddy or Mercedes
D
Bm
I do it for my dudes,
do it for my dudes
D
F#m
Bm
All my niggas on the block that
F#m
got that work to move
Bm
Yeah,
Verse 4
you don't want to play with me,
D
I touch you, man
F#
Bm
Lose your man in a tussle,
but y'all don't see me
D
Y'all can't hear me, this a Def Jam,
call me Russell, man
Bm
F#m
I played on Martin,
Bm
call me hustle, man
And now y'all know I'm the
C#
F#m
F#
F#m
yayo muscle, man
Bm
But on the under, I got that wonder,
to stop that thunder
D
F#m
That rumble in the side of your stomach,
D
F#m
piled on water
Bm
How do you want it,
D
come through in a Coupe powder blue or
F#
F#m
G
Aqua water, how do you want it,
Bm
man?
D
Hey, I tote a lot of toolies, dun,
F#m
G
I done broke a lot of hoopties dun
F#m
Bm
I done drove a lot of QPs from
here and there on the road
C#
F#m
But a nigga gotta move this, son,
Bm
and I show you how to do this, son
D
Bm
That's that boy Weezy Wee, yeah,
F#m
CMB, bitch, in your stomach
Bm
Push Impalas and
Verse 5
Bm
Caprices
(believe that daddy)
D
Bm
Starch flat, no creases
G
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Got that work,
you a D boy (believe that daddy)
G
D
F#
F#m
G
You a H- O- T Boy
(believe that daddy)
Bm
You a pimp, you got them hoes
(believe that daddy)
D
Bm
That's that weed smell in your clothes
Em
Bm
(believe that daddy)
Bet a hundred,
shoot a hundred (believe that daddy)
D
Bm
This my block, I run it
(believe that daddy)
Got them 20s on ya ride
(believe that daddy)
G
D
G
Croc or gator inside
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Fine bitch,
Bm
bowleg (believe that daddy)
D
G
And she go both ways
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Slugged up in the front
(believe that daddy)
G
D
G
Got a trunk full of bump
Bm
(believe that daddy)
Got cribs, cars, bikes,
dykes (believe that daddy)
'Cause that's what hoes like
G
(believe that daddy)
Bm
Now I do it for the ladies,
do it for the ladies
I do it 'cause I want to push
a Caddy or Mercedes
I do it for my dudes, do it for my dudes
All my niggas on the block
Outro 1
that got that work to move
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