Tonart: E minor
Verse 1
Ebm
Morele, this song's dedicated to my Darkonejo,
aka Kanjo, Mr. Perterous Flow.
Don't trip, fuck these fools.
A little rap jam from my right
-hand man.
Vámonos.
Bb
Another vato's bout to bite the dust.
Ebm
Fuck him with a cartel
Ebm
Bb
I hold it down in my Southside town.
Ebm
Heard a buster got beef,
Bb
he know where to be found
Ebm
Bb
What the fuck? Another drive, I was up
Ebm
Killing everybody when the
weapons erupt
Bb
Ebm
Don't give a fuck,
Bb
everybody catching lead
Ebm
AKs, 47 rounds to the head
Bb
Ebm
Bb
Empty the mag, holla at you fags
Ebm
Thought you held it down,
now your body bag
Bb
Ebm
Bb
Here's the plan, do the job so neat
Ebm
Rid my enemies from the
Ebm
Time to chill, lay low on the deal
Bb
Ebm
Cause Forensics looking
Bb
for my ID on the steel
Ebm
Ain't gonna hap pen,
Bb
did a professional hit
Ebm
Bb
No fingerprint or suspect to get
Ebm
Bbm
All my enemigas get blasted up
Ebm
Mastermind job, homie,
Ebm
Think you callin' shots,
Ebm
Conejo, Enco, Porro,
Bb
fuck your whole day up
Ebm
All my enemigas get blasted up
Mastermind job, homie,
Ebm
Think you callin' shots,
homie, back on up
Conejo, Enco, Porro,
Bb
fuck your whole day up
Ebm
Bb
Yeah, you all buffed up with your tattoos
Ebm
Bb
So instead of catchin' one,
dawg, you're catchin' two
Ebm
Bb
Little cock, smokin' dissa on the internet
Ebm
I reach through your Macintosh
Ebm
Pipin' down your bitch,
Ebm
It's nothin' personal,
Ebm
Tried to keep the beef wrapped,
Bb
but you called me out
Ebm
Now I got a infrared pointin'
Ebm
Where you at, homes?
Ebm
I'm about to slap
Bb
you with a loaded clapper
Ebm
Bb
In a three -piece, clean and dapper
Ebm
Nobody at your funeral
Bb
cause it didn't matter
Ebm
Bb
Tryna be a G, man you got no school
Ebm
Acting all gumbalo, yes I got you the tool
Bb
Ebm
En emy goes crack when the
Ebm
Haha, to fuck your whole day up
Bb
Ebm
Homeboy, all my enemy guys
homie that's what's up
Bb
Think you calling shots, homie back on up
Ebm
Go left, wake up home,
Bb
fuck your whole day up
Ebm
Bb
All my enemy guys get blasted up
homie that's what's up
Think we callin' shots,
homie, back on up
Gon' have to work us hard,
Bb
fuck your whole day up
Ebm
Plottin' on your death,
Bb
it's a serious issue
Ebm
What you think I'd only
Bb
lyr ically diss you?
Bb
want someone to miss you
Ebm
Pointin' at you with two
Ebm
You ain't worth a sixteen,
Bb
gonna point the beam
Ebm
Bb
Between your eyes, Saturday surprise
Ebm
Bb
Bring some tears to your half -eyes eyes
Ebm
You get a new tux, perfect size
Bb
Ebm
Got you a new box,
Ebm
Tryin' to clown with your bullshit rhymes
Bb
Ebm
Used to do the bang shit,
Bb
then I did the slang shit
Bb
now it's back to the gang shit
Ebm
Bb
Roll deep with the S's that I hang with
Ebm
Bb
With my conjo up a twenty -fifth
Ebm
Little homies do the hideous shit
Bb
Ebm
You on the wrong side of town,
Bb
man, you catchin' a clip
Ebm
All my enemy guys get
Ebm
Mastermind job, want me fast,
Ebm
Think you callin' shots,
Ebm
Go left, go in, go home,
Bb
fuck your whole day up
Ebm
Bb
All my enemikas get blasted up
Ebm
Bb
Mastermind job, only that's what's up
Ebm
Think you're calling shots?
Hold me back, hold up
Kulejo and Kupo 'o,
Bb
fuck your whole day up
Bb
Ebm
Kulejo and Kupo 'o, imperial
Bb
Oleg Kulejo don't trip, dawg
Ebm
I'ma hold these bastards down
Bb
while you're out of town
Outro 1
Ebm
Bb
Ebm
Bb
Ebm
Bb
Ebm
Bb
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