Tonart: D major•
Verse 1
know what I'm saying
So I been telling this niggas mayne
Shit ain't a game mayne
F#m
Let the niggas know mayne
You know what I'm saying
Shit definitely real
G
F#m
Yeah
Verse 2
Aiyo, Queens get the money,
long time no cash
G
I'm caught up in the hustle
when the guns go blast
F#m
The fool retaliated so
I had to think fast
G
Pull out my heat first,
he pull out his heat last
F#m
Now, who the fuck you think
I'm tryna tell these young niggas
F#m
They looked at me and said,
"Queens niggas don't play
G
Do your thing, I'll do mine,
kid, stay outta my way"
Verse 3
F#m
It's type hard tryna survive
in New York state
G
But can't stop 'til I'm eating
off a platinum plate
F#m
Po- po comes around
and tries to relocate me
but they can't deflate me
F#m
'Cause having cash is highly addictive
G
Especially when you're used
to have no money to live with
F#m
I pause, step back,
look at my life as a whole
it seems the devil done stole my soul
Verse 4
F#m
I'm out for delfia, selfia, P's
not helping ya
G
Bm
I'm tryna get this Lexus up, plus a cellular
F#m
Yo, Big Noyd! (What up,
cousin?) I can't cope
G
With all these crab niggas tryna
shorten my rope
Verse 5
F#m
Yo, it's the R- A- double-
Niggas can't fuck with me!
F#m
Coming straight outta
QB, pushing the Infiniti
G
You ask can I rip it constantly? Mentally?
F#m
Def initely, to the death of me,
come and test me
G
Trust me, nigga can't touch
F#m
So bust me, you're gonna have to,
'cause I'ma blast you
G
My lyrical like a miracle, ill spiritual
Verse 6
F#m
I'm born with it,
I'm getting on with it
G
And I'ma have it 'til I'm fucking
dead and gone with it
F#m
'Cause I'm a what? Composer of hardcore,
Don't make me buck ya, 'cause
F#m
I'm a wild motherfucker
You know I flow,
Even pack my gat when
F#m
I go to see my P.O
Jump out my hooptie, pass
my gat and my lucci
in case my P.O. try to troop me
Verse 7
F#m
To the Island, and if I start wilding
G
Flipping on niggas walking around
with the nice gold medallions
F#m
But she didn't violate me,
so I escaped, see
G
Back to Queens, pumping the fiends,
making more cream
F#m
Know what I mean? I'm
a natural- born hustler
G
Won't try to cut ya, pull out my
.44 and bust ya
Verse 8
F#m
Yo, ain't no time for faking
jacks
'Cause brothers that fake jacks
G
get laid on their backs
Bm
The streets is real,
F#m
can't roll without steel
I feel how I feel 'cause I
F#m
Do what I gotta to eat a decent meal,
brothers is starving
Don't try to find a job, son,
So don't be alarmed when
We supposed to, if you opposed to,
G
get your face blown, dude
Verse 9
F#m
Off the map, 'cause I re act,
attack
A brother wasn't blessed with wealth,
Drug dealing,
F#m
only mess with shorties that's appealing
I'm fronting on the world once I
F#m
'Cause back on the 41st Side,
we do it right
G
Sipping E&J, getting bent all night
Yo, who that? I never seen
F#m
him in my whole life
Step to his business
Verse 10
F#m
Po- po ain't around so I
grab my pound
G
Money retaliated, so I hit the ground
My life is on the line,
F#m
gotta hold my projects down
Can't see myself getting
Ass nigga that ain't even from my town
F#m
Hit him up in the chest,
G
now he's laying man down
F#m
Jetted up from under the benches,
I started hearing sirens
I stopped firing,
G
to cut ass like a diamond
Verse 11
F#m
Jetted to the crib piece, what a relief
Stashed the heat then
F#m
Out the window, call my son,
"Yo, son, we got beef"
G
But no question, money had a problem,
so I solved him
Verse 12
F#m
I got my mind on a stick- up, now
it's time to get paid
G
Thinking of ways to take loot
already made
F#m
There's crime in the air,
ain't no time to be afraid
G
Give me yours or get laid
F#m
G
Bm
Give up the goods or get sprayed
Verse 13
F#m
lots of love, for my crew that is
G
No love for them other crews and rival kids
F#m
All them out- of- town niggas
know what time it is
they need to buy a watch, word up
Caught up in the crossfire,
While I be sipping gin straight
in a plastic cup
On a park bench on 12th Street,
my whole crew's famous
You tried to bust your gat and keep it real,
Verse 14
but you nameless
First of all, slow down,
you on the wrong route
Let me put you on your feet and show
you what's it all about
The street life ain't nothing to play with,
no jokes, no games, kid
For years, I been doing the same shit
Just, drinking liquor, doing bids
Extorting crack heads,
and sticking up the stick- up kids
Wie hat dir der Song gefallen?
Du musst dich , um eine Bewertung abzugeben.
TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteG F#m Bm
Beliebte Akkorde weltweit
Meistgespielte Akkorde & Tabs aller Nutzer
Neu hinzugefügt
Kürzlich hinzugefügte Akkorde & Tabs
