Microphone Preem Akkorde von
Prhyme
Prhyme
Slaughterhouse
Slaughterhouse

N/A
Tonart: Eb major
Verse 1
D
D
Em
Em
This is the pick up line, I got
to big up mine
Verse 2
Em
Em
E
E
D
D
I'm handlin' you frauds
These wounded ass niggas,
C
C
I rap circles around 'em
G
G
I'm bandages and gauze
F
F
Am
Am
Crooked trap 'round clowns,
this rap circus surrounds 'em
G
G
But I'm havin' a menage
Fuckin' with the rap
game, and the trap game
Gm
Gm
F
F
I'm managin' my odds
Dm
Dm
Em
Em
Man these rappers out here reachin',
E
E
D
D
your arms are too short
Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em
C
C
to the gods
G
G
Slaughterhouse,
F
F
we the military in this bitch
G
G
Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch,
Am
Am
yeah
Fuck your apology,
I'ma be on astrology shit
G
G
March into war like Aries in this bitch,
yeah
Gm
Gm
G
G
Gm
Gm
F
F
You call it light work,
nigga this is my life's work
D
D
Em
Em
E
E
D
D
I turn around and beat
C
C
up
G
G
a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse
F
F
Am
Am
Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I
don't think Joe Jackson
G
G
And Buster Douglas could ever
do a mic worse
F
F
I'm tryna murder the microphone
I'm tryna murder the microphone
If you are what you eat,
how come I'm not pussy?
Dm
Dm
Em
Em
That was part uno, this
E
E
D
D
is part two though
Verse 3
D
D
This the difference between y'all niggas
C
C
G
G
and real rap
The competition fell back, niggas
F
F
Am
Am
ask
How much did I use to drink
G
G
I tell 'em off the top
of my head about a gallon
Gm
Gm
F
F
Kinda like Pharrell's hat
But all jokes aside like I ordered fries
Dm
Dm
Em
Em
I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet,
I'm organized
E
E
Em
Em
E
E
D
D
Before police was interrogatin',
C
C
G
G
I was livin' the story of my life
F
F
And Morgan Freeman was narrat
G
G
in'
(Say it again) I'm 5'9", not
Am
Am
an inch taller
'Fore all of the jewelry,
I've been baller
G
G
Before niggas was
hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs
Gm
Gm
You let it out your sight and
F
F
they take it to sight see
Same shit, another nigga gotta die today
My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever
D
D
Em
Em
goin' out on dates
(Why) we ain't vacayin' out
of state
E
E
Whinin' all the time, all
D
D
she do was holler
C
C
We ain't like a Pagan holiday
G
G
Rappers will, be actin' ill
F
F
G
G
F
F
Am
Am
Knowing they daffodils
I take the word "lyrical" and
flip it backwards
And that says "laciryl"
G
G
And that's exactly how I feel
Gm
Gm
F
F
Shout out to Guru,
I got the mass appeal
I'm tryna murder the microphone
Em
Em
I'm tryna murder the microphone
E
E
D
D
I'll give up drinkin' when
she give her emotions up
(That was part uno,
C
C
F
F
G
G
this is part two though)
Verse 4
Oh you don't,
F
F
Am
Am
don't let me learn yah
I body the beat and watch it skip,
G
G
call it m- murda
The nerve of anyone
Gm
Gm
G
G
who ain't heard of
F
F
The gang that don't tweet simultaneous
for the sake of the sermon
(House Gang what up!)
Other groups basic mergers
Dm
Dm
Em
Em
We extort 'em from a distance,
E
E
D
D
takin' it further
Drama could be all yours,
why you want a war for?
C
C
You can't go at uno,
G
G
mothafucka, that's a draw 4
We started out as just a feature
F
F
G
G
Am
Am
on a Joe joint
Fuck around now,
you on the bleachers soon as Joe point
G
G
Brothers for real, I can honestly say
If you come at me,
F
F
they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'
Meet fire, street fighters when
this pen's writin'
D
D
Em
Em
Shady, you go through us to get to Em,
Bison
E
E
(Come on, crook,
D
D
you wildin' again)
Nah Joe, these niggas stupid,
C
C
G
G
boy we do this shit
F
F
G
G
I'm tryna murder
F
F
the microphone
G
G
F
F
Am
Am
I'm tryna murder
the microphone
Too many frogs go "ribbet" but
G
G
never leave lilies
(That was part uno,
Gm
Gm
F
F
this is part two though)
Verse 5
F
F
These niggas might play
D
D
Em
Em
E
E
D
D
cray, try slay me
Off my mic vacay, call it
right, it's mayday
C
C
G
G
Right footed melee,
strapped a light AK
F
F
Am
Am
Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ
Do it for Em, my squad do it
G
G
for bundles
Could've been copped the Phantom,
Gm
Gm
F
F
bought the Benz bein' humble
Still, the nickel plate is known
to get 'em situated
It's return fire,
Dm
Dm
Em
Em
E
E
D
D
even when Joey initiate it
C
C
How I feel about these rap
niggas? Fuck 'em all
Am
Am
Drake rhyme about these bitches,
I just fuck 'em all
A hundred guns, jeans big enough
to tuck 'em all
G
G
Banana clips, fully automatic,
Gm
Gm
Gm
Gm
F
F
you can't duck 'em all
Cause when it's gats involved,
bodies'll fall
Em
Em
From the sky, could really be
E
E
D
D
rainin' cats and dogs
It's Joey, nicer than any
rapper you rockin' to
Call a spade a spade, nigga
try to follow suit
I'm tryna murder the microphone
Bring it back to life, I murder
F
F
that microphone
Too many big dogs,
not enough barkin' yet
(That was part uno, this is part two though)

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