Tonart: F# minor•
Verse 1
F#m
Die motherfuckers, die motherfuckers,
E
F#m
die
A
F#m
B
A
B
F#m
Cause I'm sick of the weak -ass shit
C#
E
you've been sayin'
F#m
I'm sick of the weak -ass shit
you've been playin'
Make me wanna shoot my radio out
A
F#m
But I won't do such,
B
because it costs too much
F#m
But what I will do is give
you something brand new
For the DJs, MCs and fans too
Some say I'm not Marvin
A
F#m
But look around,
B
F#m
A
B
F#m
A
count how many heads of Bobby
B
A
F#m
I heard your new song on the radio,
E
F#m
hated that shit
Cause it sounded like a demo,
now if you're so pro black punk bitch
A
F#m
Stop getting them white
F#m
You get a nigga like crazy, see
E
F#m
And your shit won't sound so sloppy
I know you hate what I said
A
F#m
But if you run up,
B
I'll put a gun upside your fuckin' head
F#m
A
Cause homeboy, I don't love ya
B
A
You get your mama or somebody else
E
F#m
to feel sorry for ya
A
Put your rhymes in a casket, dig a bed
B
A
Bury your head, cause that shit's dead
F#m
A
I needed something that was holdin'
B
So I called New Orleans
F#m
And caught up with Roland
A
He said he had a boy who
could play the piano
B
His name was Goldfinger
F#m
A
Dick Holt made the bassline groove
B
A
He got paid to sign with Sticky Move
F#m
A
So you better find some new ideas
B
A
B
And stay the fuck away from here
F#m
A
B
F#m
A
F#m
A
B
A
F#m
Now, tell your so -called su
B
A
You need to stop fucking with losers
F#m
A
And get yourself some juice
B
Call yourself a producer,
F#m
A
Side -steppin' like a penguin,
B
A
B
this ain't ringlin'
C
A
So you and your crew can
A
Old school beats get ruined,
B
cause motherfuckers like you
F#m
be puttin' weak -ass rhymes to them
I can't duck cause your
F#m
your drums don't kick
and your horns are out of tune
Make a nigga just lose respect,
A
F#m
push that B -check
B
and snatch your shit out the tape deck
F#m
A
Cause your lyrics are way out,
B
you should have stayed out
A
Before Traxton played out
F#m
A
Your production is booty broke,
A
So you can work out of the studio
F#m
A
Then practice on your vocals
B
A
And stop acting like you're universal
when you're local
F#m
So take your wack -ass style,
A
F#m
and take your wack -ass home
A
B
F#m
A
B
A
F#m
A
Yeah, this goes out to all you wanna be,
B
ain't never gonna be shit rappers
F#m
acting like y 'all lack jeal ous ass
A
B
Ain't paid no motherfuckin' dues,
ain't sold
A
No motherfuckin' records
F#m
But runnin' around with t
A
-shirts with your name on
B
Yeah, you hoes better try
F#m
to be friends with me
Watch that bitch,
A
B
A
B
A
F#m
she'll get you weeks
Die motherfuckers,
A
B
die motherfuckers, die
Die motherfuckers,
A
F#m
die motherfuckers, die
B
A
Die motherfuckers, die motherfuckers, die
A
F#m
A
die motherfuckers, die
B
A
Die motherfuckers, die motherfuckers, die
F#m
A
Die motherfuckers, die motherfuckers, die
Die motherfuckers, die motherfuckers, die
Die
Hey! Turn that shit down!
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