Tonart: D# minor•
Verse 1
Ebm
Abm
Ebm
Abm
Ebm
I ain't tryna diss you
Abm
I just wanna know the issue
Verse 2
Ebm
Abm
got some shit on my mind
Verse 3
off, this song,
meant to be tooken wrong
Abm
Bad intentions an d all,
Ebm
don't want the problem resolved
Heard it was you,
I'm like "no not my dawg"
Went to school together
Abm
took the bus and all,
Ebm
Back of flashin' cars, tryna be a boss
Tryna fit in with the hustlers,
they told us run along
Abm
Tryna learn to shoot dice,
Ebm
got my bike stolen dawg
Used to wanna gang bang,
ride deep in cars
Abm
Ebm
'Til I see the nigga wrong hat,
now his head off
Picked up a notepad,
thought you gon' do the same
Abm
Wrote down the shit I saw,
Ebm
now I don't look at shit the same
Now how am I to blame
for you choosin a life you made?
Abm
Nigga you a man too,
Ebm
Same gravity hold you
down, that's embarrassing
Abm
Your comments was hilarious,
Ebm
not even congratulations
Told niggas we're related,
even when I made it
Abm
Had nothing but good things to say about
Ebm
you even though you still hated
I know you think 'cause this fame
I'm probably jaded
Abm
Ain't get a chance to see yo daughter,
Ebm
tell her happy belated
For me, I don't care if that car lease,
Abm
you in it you own it
And that's all me,
Ebm
being smart don't mean cheap
You could take a life sitting
Abm
in that driver's seat
Take your shades off,
Ebm
I'm like (Remember me?)
Verse 4
Ebm
I ain't tryna diss you
Abm
Ebm
I just wanna know the issue
If you know what you say
then say who you are
Abm
Ebm
We ain't gotta take it this far
So go on, make a diss song,
this is not a diss song
Abm
They just wanted this song,
Ebm
tell 'em play this song
I ain't tryna diss you
Abm
Ebm
I just wanna know the issue
Verse 5
Listen to this song
Ebm
Lookin' at my story,
breakin' down my glory
Judging my highlights when
it's shots like Horry
Always tryin' to take from me, criticize,
Wanna call me fake cuz you really
Ebm
can't re late to me
Your remarks,
playin league out of character
Abm
You social past couldn't
Ebm
make a dollar in America
On your keyboard cuz I blew
Me boy, why you niggas
Ebm
gotta be a kill joy?
I gave you niggas something
Gave you niggas something
Abm
Gave you niggas something to die to
Niggas want the fast life,
Ebm
barely in the drive- thru
I advise you,
do what yo life allow you to
Abm
Ebm
You're a fare nigga? It's cool,
I was once too
All that feedback,
really don't need that
Abm
Ebm
You like it? Buy it,
You don't? Don't cop it
Abm
Continue to be great but my eyes lit
Ebm
Ignorance is bliss so I can't
blame your ignorance
Abm
It's irrelevant, I'm relevant
Ebm
I'm big event so go ahead
Abm
and vent
Ebm
(I'm big event so go
ahead and vent)
Verse 6
Ebm
I ain't tryna diss you
Abm
Ebm
I just wanna know the issue
If you know what you say
then say who you are
Abm
We ain't gotta take it this far
Ebm
So go on, make a diss song,
this is not a diss song
Abm
They just wanted this song,
tell 'em play this song
Ebm
I ain't tryna diss you
Abm
I just wanna know the issue
Bb
Ebm
Listen to this song
Abm
Listen to this song
Ebm
This song, if you know what
you say then say who you are
Abm
We ain't gotta take it this far
Bb
Ebm
I ain't tryna diss you
Abm
Ebm
I ain't, tell em play this song
I ain't tryna diss you
Ebm
Abm
Tell em play this song
Abm
Bbm
Verse 7
Ebm
Gb
Bells ring, let the birds sing
Abm
Had to sacrifice,
Bbm
Ebm
never knew what pain will bring
Db
This moment of clarity
Abm
I do it for my auntie's nephew,
Bbm
Ebm
never had a niece
They call it spoken word,
don't want it to speak
Abm
Don't mix them colors with whites
Bbm
as if it was bleach
niggas fightin' over window seats
Abm
Tryna compete, (T- Raww's)
Bbm
Make this idea complete
Ebm
Ryan just got killed, who is he to blame?
Abm
God rest his soul,
Bbm
tryna protect his gold chain
Ebm
It's rules to the shit,
Db
but just it ain't a game
Abm
Bbm
Give or take, niggas still gon' violate
Ebm
Not up for discussion,
Gb
load and cockin' and bussin'
Abm
You tough? It's always someone tougher
Ebm
sayin' fuck we's in public motherfucker
Gb
I kept it 1000 to be exact
Abm
Went from hood racks to
Bbm
Maybach's, how real is that?
Ebm
Plaques on the wall,
Gb
wall match the chrome gat
Abm
Got pack backpack backpack, rap
Bbm
whenever was that
Ebm
Niggas fire arms like
Db
they fuckin' fist gone
Abm
These simple heartbeats,
Bbm
Ebm
that's a real diss song
Motherfucker
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