Tonart: D major
Verse 1
F#m
G
F#m
G
F#m
G
F#m
G
F#m
So
fruitful,
so Google, so global
For some total of two moguls,
a few moguls
G
F#m
Set my game up insane with the vocals
G
F#m
Set my lane up and fly past locals
Like I'm sliding on a oval, sunset opal
Purple, full circle,
G
came back hurtful, painful
F#m
G
Hell's angel, understar spangle
F#m
Cannot be tangled, system all strangle
Me on angle
Then I'm back into the building
Ailing like I'm falling all
over the ceiling
Been through the wheeling
and dealing
G
Been through the tears and
the healing
F#m
Been through the fears and the kneeling
Now it's appearing, appealing, apparent
G
What I'm revealing when speaking
F#m
is leaving the planet
Brooklyn the beacon I'm weaving
I'm leaving this planet
Shake with the damage
A couple bitches, a couple cameras
Until I vanish
G
Not only managed to take chances,
F#m
risk it, untwist it, 3K edition
We aimless,
my game is so stainless
Metaphors yet through mics
became famous
Won't change us,
insane in the membrane sense
Ghosts, Raekwon,
Jews built for Cuban linksin'
Pyrex pots, rocks bubblin', oversinksin'
Fear pumpin' all in your
system until it sinksin'
Plans on the floor won't lead me into extinction,
yeah
Through the hate I stick shift, baby
I need my medicine to heal
this sickness, mystic
The spotlight hits them,
the drop like listing them
G
F#m
Hot like pistons inside of a 7 series
Front line moving the troops, it's military
G
Mind frame out in the sticks,
F#m
but you ain't hear me though
Never scared, spectacular in stereo
Raw material, pee back to carry on
Safe bet from St. Betts to Lava Ground
Only takes but one match to
burn a house
Bring down the heat on the snakes
and smoke em out
G
F#m
If you about patterns and lyrics
then bring em out
G
F#m
I sing about those without
winning a drought
And I don't need rings and
things to have clout
But when in doubt,
G
F#m
please believe we mash out
Shhh, whoo, I'm here digital
Shhh, whoo, I'm here digital
Ice ice, baby, I did the ride so chilly
G
F#m
Non sequitur, spilling my drinks in Mali
G
Silly me, so illy, really
F#m
F#
F#m
Mr. Lebandi, me with the butter knife,
y 'all feel me?
Move it, Fred Astaire on my step
G
F#m
Coconut oil expert, my wet works
Some four scrolls, put holes in people before
people put in the hole with action -packed rap
F#m
rapping will not expel
Professionnel careful to collect shells
Like the back of a tortoise
who taught the hare humiliation
Buried in his hole and refused
to leave
Cause the public,
he couldn't face him
Bumped like bicycles on train tracks
G
To toss lines back with the best
F#m
Talent has nothing to do with your rhymes
A fantasy is a subject
of a life you let in your mind
F#m
a marketing team design
Get shot, make a sex tape
and start a clothing line
G
So brightened by your figures
G
Why argue with embryos?
F#m
Your lyrics is warm piss,
your style ain't stylish
No doubt we had some years
lost in the mix
But we back after 6
F#m
E, B, H, P, Psy, E, M, Ball, Bean,
F#m
We A, B, C, so quadriplegically
M, P, T, M, C's
F#m
Shh, whoo, ah, all up in digital
Mm, ah, shh, whoo, mm, ah, shh, whoo
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TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteF#m G F#
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