Tonart: Bb minor•
Verse 1
Bbm
Get on your feet and testify
Lift your voice up to the sky
Verse 2
Bbm
Yeah, yeah, yeah get the, get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah get the
Verse 3
Bbm
Put your motherfuckin'
hands in the air
Or you gon' need a halo,
I'm a mothafuckin' slayer
This ain't no game,
I'm not no player
Nigga tryna find his way and then
he bringing pain
You better know we major
Verse 4
Bb
I'm on this water heavy, what's a little
Wrestle with these words
a young Mick Foley
Bb
Bbm
All I see is AC Slater
These niggas jaded, 'bout to set it off,
Eb
Bbm
I feel like Jada
Still on the block it feel like Jenga how
it tumble down
Hands shaking like a Rumble pack,
are we humble now?
Bb
Buzzing, how we bumble now?
Bbm
Leaving niggas puzzled,
do the right thing and they buggin' out
Know the free don't stop
for nothing
Tell 'em niggas stop the frontin'
Roll in front, so if you ever
see teardrop
You better know we choppin'
onions
I'm spitting yellow bricks,
we rarely stop for munchkins
That's why I do not fuck
with customs
I'm unaccustomed to
these costumes
Know that if you cross the free
it just might cost you
I'm not a doctor or Kevin Costner
The way I'm dancing with these wolves,
I pray I never lost a step
I keep it steppin' nigga that's a bet
Verse 5
Bb
Relax and take notes,
Bbm
while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Relax and take notes, relax and take notes,
notes, notes, notes
Verse 6
Bbm
Put your motherfuckin' hands
Bb
Bbm
in the air
And wave them like you just don't care
I'm just showin' love to my
mothafuckin' people
You can tell your mans we
ain't going no where
Now keep your hands in
Eb
the motherfuckin' air
And wave them like you just don't care
I'm just showin' love to my
mothafuckin' people
Bbm
You can tell your mans we
Eb
ain't going no where
Verse 7
Bbm
Yeah, yeah, yeah get the, get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah get the
Verse 8
Yeah, yeah, yeah get the
Bbm
Jerome in the mothafuckin' house
now
Leather loafer steppin',
niggas better watch they mouth now
Leaving loaded lessons,
pray for blessings when the doubts 'round
Thousand Island stretchin',
I ain't stressin' no salad
I'm in this water where the sharks be
Coming for the same place
Artsy, dirty mouth,
Bbm
I never do the flossing
Hardly, stuntin' on the niggas
that's frontin'
I know they do not want it, I run
over niggas that's punnin'
No I ain't tryna kick it, I'm
cookin' no bun in the oven
I need it on the stove,
push it to the people off a cottage grove
Pot of gold, flooded more than
Hollygrove
Mothafuckin' Hollywood,
never take a holiday
Bb
I'm spotting foes everywhere,
Bbm
know that I get very rare
Faced the God,
what's up Based God?
I'm pacing hot, tracing opps
Know your enemy,
patrol your energy
Bb
Bbm
Don't slip with niggas that
pretend to be
Only kin of me can call me blood
Even a friendly can see the love
We do it for the free and keep it up
Tell your niggas they can keep the hate
Tell my friends I appreciate,
the value never depreciate
Verse 9
Bbm
This for my niggas,
who be chillin' with them killers in the wild
We gettin' high 'til we bug
the fuck out
It's been a minute,
Bb
I've been chillin' on the pile right, right
Bbm
And to my crooks from Chi- town
all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook,
Verse 10
hands
Eb
Ebm
up in the air
Eb
Bbm
Or you gon' have to lay low when
Ebm
Bbm
Eb
I motherfucking spray you
This ain't no game like
Ebm
Bbm
Sega, don't be a hero
I'm with my good fellas
and we 'bout to Rob Dinero
Give me the pesos,
give me the Euros, give me the dollars
Bb
Bbm
Give me the say so
if these niggas want the drama
Bb
If I call my partners up,
Bbm
body bags is popping up
Keep popping shit, we pop the trunk,
make you niggas popular
Bb
Hit him between his oculars, what
Bbm
the fuck is popping, cuz?
Bb
Super Saiyan like I opened forty-
Bb
Pussy hoes we knocking up,
Bbm
these flows keep stocking up
Bb
Bbm
As long as I'm rhyming
I'm Ben Wallace on your wallets, uh
Bb
Bbm
My true shottas go
Soul shocking with the fire,
Bbm
probably light your block up
Bb
Stop your blood clot crying,
Bbm
the pussy boy there dying
Bb
It's a cold, cold world
Bbm
I think these niggas need
Bb
the iron like "blaow"
Bbm
How you like me now?
Verse 11
Bbm
Bb
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn
Niggas jocking my style, I been all on the road
Bb
I been checking out the shows,
Bbm
Bb
Bbm
I been fucking your hoes, like blap
How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn
king of them now
Bb
Bbm
Niggas biting my style, I been all on the road
Bb
I been checking out the shows,
Bbm
I been fucking your hoes
Verse 12
This for my niggas,
who be chillin' with them killers in the wild
We gettin' high 'til we bug the fuck out
Bb
Bbm
It's been a minute,
Bb
I've been chillin' on the pile right, right
Bbm
And to my crooks from Chi- town
Eb
all the way to Flatbush
Bbm
Eb
Bbm
Eb
We get wild if you give us that look
Bbm
Hit you with the follow up and
the right hook, right, right
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TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteBbm Bb Eb Ebm
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