Tonart: G# minor
Verse 1
Em
C
to see my babies get old
Jail different when you know
that you ain't goin' forward
All my niggas dead and jellin',
either way they in the hole
Had an empty plate, I made sure he ate,
I gave him bowls
G
All my niggas try to murder,
for they try to get some money
Broke, got ten bodies,
Em
and he still ain't touched twenty
G
Run from me till his body locked,
now he stuck
Dummy bro drill for the thrill,
Em
G
don't get a buck from me
And they feel what I feel,
C
that's how we let it release
Ain't no such thing as big opps,
them niggas deceased
Bouncin' out tippy -toin',
new sneakers gettin' creased
Catch him in his hood,
knock his head off, he a fleece
G
Real gangster, I admit it, mom,
Em
that ain't how you raise me
G
Em
Famous hood rich and shoot shit,
that's why they praise me
G
Standin' straight, arms out,
sprintin', he amaze me
I pluck some niggas off,
we ain't never pluck a daisy
Thinkin' bout my future,
C
cause I know that I'm a thug
In the Honda Accord,
on my way to meet the plug
Step on everybody
in a way we think a bug
Lord Jai had Pepsi,
nowadays we need a jug
G
I was tryna go to school,
Em
I wasn't born like this
G
It ain't hard to get you off
Em
when you on like this
G
Ain't nobody got no niggas
Em
with him going like this
Em
G
you don't work your pawns like this
Still active in them trenches,
Got the paper that they offer,
that's why I ain't got deal
They reason I'm the ticket,
that's why I ain't got drill
But they know that leafy tryna kill,
still I got chills
G
Still postin' and them churns
just could've been left
I could put them pounds on you
Em
with you bench -pressed
G
How you fuck your brother over,
that ain't incest
Em
G
Em
I'm Quan Cook, been blessed,
I should've been stressed
G
Still postin' and them churns
just could've been left
C
I could put them pounds on you
with you bench -pressed
How you fuck your brother over,
that ain't incest
I'm Quan Cook, been blessed,
I should've been stressed
G
It be hard to go at niggas that I love,
I fell
Em
G
C
I'ma fry in hell, wait before I tell
ain't nobody in the mob got bail
Em
Crack turned down twelve,
G
fuck with him, took a L
Tell bro that it ain't over,
C
we gon' get him back in
Ever see us in the club?
Yes, we got gas in
We don't skim, but we got rent,
nigga, tap in
Ask the streets about leaf now,
fuck back then
G
Man, this shit just in my blood,
Em
back stroking in the mud
G
Taking risks with the chicken,
Em
C
niggas rich off blood
Em
so I'd be pre pared when it flood
Let them know this what it is,
we don't care about what it was
G
We very weird, clutching,
C
cause we warrin' with the city
It got ugly over time,
I remember it was pretty
We get pleasure pushin' P,
turn a runnin' into Ricky
Awful lot of cough syrup,
this ain't no regular dicky
G
Still posted in them trenches,
could've been left
I could put them pounds on you
Em
G
with your bench press
How you fuck your brother over,
G
I'm Quan Cook, been blessed,
Em
G
I should've been stressed
Still posted in them trenches,
could've been left
C
I could put them pounds on you
with your bench press
G
How you fuck your brother over,
I'm corned, cooked, been blessed,
Em
C
I should've been stressed
G
Outro 1
Em
G
C
Em
G
C
Wie hat dir der Song gefallen?
TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteEm G C
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