Tonart: C# minor
Verse 1
Eb
Fm
Get out
Get out!
You can't be in here
Bbm
You have to get out
I implore you
Fm
Please
Please
Bbm
You're all going to
die down here
Eb
Fm
Verse 2
[Timbaland]
It's life or death
Bbm
Either one
The king is back
Take heed and run
Eb
I piss and take a shit on
Fm
your beat for fun
I killed the game
I ain't even use a gun
Who better than me?
Bbm
Don't make me laugh
I run this shit; they just chase my ass
Eb
I ain't talkin' shit, nigga
Fm
Just tellin' the facts
I think all the tracks I'm hearin'
from niggas is whack
I be hearin' these niggas
Bbm
What they say in they rhymes
I took my spot; nobody
Gdim
gave me mine
Eb
I make the beats that boom
Fm
boom boom in they trunks
You disagree,
homey? Then go on and jump
You can bump your gum
Bbm
You can say what you want
That's all you gon' do 'cause
you niggas is punks
Eb
I'm number one; you ain't noth
Fm
in' but shit
When they need a hit,
I would become to get
Bbm
Talk to me
Verse 3
Bbm
[Chorus]
If you got love for me,
Gdim
Fm
I got love for you
If you don't fuck wit' me,
Bbm
I won't fuck wit' you
We can do it however you wanna
Gdim
Fm
do
Nigga, if you don't fuck wit' me,
I won't fuck wit' you
Go on ahead
Bbm
Kill yourself, kill yourself, kill yourself
Go on, kill yourself,
Eb
Fm
kill yourself, kill yourself
If I was you, I wouldn't feel myself
Bbm
Go on, kill yourself, kill yourself,
kill yourself
Go on, kill yourself,
Fm
kill yourself, kill yourself
If I was you, I wouldn't feel myself
Verse 4
Fm
I'm tired of niggas
Bbm
Niggas is tired
You ain't a G
Eb
I see bitch in your eyes
If you close to me
Fm
You supposed to be
But most of you rap niggas
is hos to me
Wherever you from
Bbm
The question I ask
Is do you think I give a fuck?
Riddle me that
Eb
'Cause in my hood,
Fm
and you jump into hell and back
This industry shit - to hell wit' that
Bbm
I seen 'em come, I seen 'em go
I doubt if you can show me somethin'
I ain't seen before
Gdim
Who supposed to be in charge?
Fm
I need to know
When I shake your hand,
I'm a step on your toe
Bbm
Go get ya gun, go get ya click
I'm a be right here chillin'
wit' yo' bitch
Gdim
You mad at me 'cause
Fm
I'm gettin' rich
Well, put the pistol to your
head and empty the clip
Interlude 1
Pop, nigga!
Fm
Bbm
Gdim
Fm
Bbm
Gdim
Fm
Bbm
Eb
Fm
Bbm
Fm
Verse 5
Fm
[Chorus]
See my heart
Feel my pain
Bbm
Eb
Some is stars, some is lames
How they follow little trends
Fm
to get they fame
I ain't snappin' my damn fingers
to get in the game
You claim you rich
Show me, son
If you got so many
Bbm
Eb
dollas, then loan me one
Fools think they killas - they own
Fm
a gun
When you know you 'bout
as sweet as a honey bun
Bbm
Trash your broads behind a bar
Like you dat dude frontin'
Gdim
hard
Fm
VIP bands don't make you a star
Like we really still don't know
who the fuck you are
Don't talk behind my back,
Bbm
just call me nigga
Move my heart to the side
Make room to forgive ya
Gdim
Eb
If you still wanna hang
Fm
We'll come to get ya
Put the rope around your neck and jump,
Bbm
my nigga!
Verse 6
Bbm
Fm
You're all going to die down here
Get out
Get out
Bbm
Eb
You can't be in here
Fm
You're all going to die down here
Outro 1
Bbm
Gdim
Eb
Fm
Bbm
Fm
Wie hat dir der Song gefallen?
TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteEb Fm Bbm Gdim
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