Tonart: Ab major
Verse 1
G
C
Gm
G
C
Gm
G
C
Gm
G
C
It only takes
Gm
C
one of these hip -hop grooves to get you groovin'
Gm
C
Already they be callin' me smooth,
Gm
C
so when I move I make the party people love it
Gm
C
Maybe it's because it's the top of the line
and the rhyme's the way above it
Gm
C
Comin' in blocks,
they all talkin' how I do it
With so much juice that
they consider me a fluid
Gm
C
What's up with yours? I
heard you're doin' tours
By the time I'm done,
Bbm
C
you'll probably end up doing floor.
Gm
C
Nobody told you I was making it fast,
C
A little snake in the grass,
C
Now how many times did you say it?
And even if your
DJ was homie, he had to play it.
Gm
C
I got a style that'll rock the spot.
Work like
Captain
Texas with your doctor's spot.
C
Cause I'm quick on the draw,
Gm
C
black, and on a mission.
So yeah, this is a star track.
Gm
C
I wouldn't call you a name to
make your lame stone.
Gm
C
I got the sticks and stones,
and I'm a break bones.
G
C
Non -believer,
your girl's just a skeezer
G
C
Even if your name was
Julius, you couldn't seize her
Gm
C
Raise your hand if you're sure,
just raise your hand
Gm
C
Raise your hand if you're sure
and you'll praise the man
Gm
C
Listen up,
G
you can't hold back on the cut
C
Bbm
G
Gm
C
Gm
C
Now you know what's up, you gotta give it up
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Now I've been through a lot
of good times and bad times
Gm
Chuck does the cuts while I
Gm
C
Face reality and come correctly
A young black man with a plan,
respect me
Gm
C
I could be out there
slinging the drugs
Making
Gm
C
G's with keys and giving sluts the thugs
Gm
G
And it could be like
Gm
G
Turn my waist cause
Gm
C
Slap the dap in the palm
of my right arm
Gm
C
I'm calm and drop more bombs than
Vietnam
Gm
C
The underground group with the scoop
G
C
Living like troops, you gotta give it up
C
G
C
G
C
Gm
C
G
C
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
G
C
Gm
C
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
Gm
G
C
G
C
yeah, yeah, yeah,
Gm
C
G
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Bbm
G
Gm
It's gonna be a cold day in
C
hell before I stop the hip -hop
Gm
C
Somebody's gotta drop
the pop in a pit stop
Give me my props even
cops can't get with
Gm
C
MC fly tighter where funk is misfit
G
I got the fever for the
C
flavors of what's yours
Gm
C
Breaking down doors,
taking over tours
Gm
C
Blasting punks as I ride through
Boston
Gm
C
A mil lion dollar man just like
Steve
Austin
Gm
C
And I'll be checking out
chicks for later tricks for now
You got to deal with the dope mix
Gm
C
And put the joint on the map
Gm
C
Cease the crap and increase the dap
Now, you can't hold back on the cut
Gm
C
Do what you wanna
G
C
Gm
But you gotta give it up
G
C
Gm
G
C
G
C
G
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
G
C
Gm
C
Get up , get up, get up, up, get get up, get up, get get up, up, get up, get get up, get get up,
Gm
C
G
C
G
C
G
C
G
C
Gm
get get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
Gm
C
I'll see next
Wie hat dir der Song gefallen?
TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteG C Gm Bbm
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