Tonart: C minor
Intro 1
Dm
E
F
Am
F
E
Em
Dm
D
Dm
Verse 1
Am
Dm
D
Your P's your Q's,
Am
Dm
D
Your P's your Q's,
C
Dm
Am
your P's your Q's
Dm
D
Got P's, got Q's,
C
D
got P's, got Q's
Dm
Am
Dm
D
Got P's, got Q's,
Dm
Am
what the fuck you playin' on now?
Dm
Am
E
Zilla, all gas, no black in my mouth
Em
Cat piss by the pound,
D
niggas know the pack is loud
Am
I got to knock em down like Pacquiao
E
D
Lookin' for a holly berry higher
Vegas nights cause my paper right
E
Boss niggas shakin' dice
Am
E
It's all a game of life,
Am
you gotta play it right
E
Em
D
I'm like Mike, takin' flight,
nigga, day and night
Dm
Am
E
Cartier, wood frames, 24k
Dm
D
Dom Perignon, black bottle, boy, rosé
Dm
Am
Roll the lot,
E
Am
papers with the road tray
E
F
E
D
Cushion, no chicken, chicken chipotle
Dm
Am
E
The scopes say we winnin',
Am
F
you niggas losin'
E
D
It's all gas, no brakes,
you niggas cruisin'
Dm
Am
Sleep for the week,
E
Am
Dm
you niggas snoozin'
F
E
I got these bitches choosin',
D
Am
OG in my Cuban
Dm
D
Your peas, your cubes,
your peas, your cubes
Am
Dm
D
Your peas, your cubes,
C
Am
D
Am
your peas, your cubes
F
Dm
D
Got peas, got cubes,
C
Am
D
got peas, got cubes
Am
Dm
D
Got peas, got cubes,
Dm
D
what the fuck you wanna do?
Am
D
Am
Hold up, nigga, droppin' mixtapes,
D
I'm makin' Skrill, Gorillaz,
Royce, and Layton feel
Dm
Am
Them sacred hills,
got boss niggas who makin' meals
E
Em
D
I'm tryna take a field trip,
Dm
boy, let's make a deal
Am
This spindle wheel's a fortune,
sittin' on forges
Am
E
D
Turbos, 500 horses
E
my stick full of that forest
Am
E
This outdoor shit got the shad
Am
Yo, OG shadow, that's for the dabbers
E
D
That new wave is dope, man,
it's for the trappers
Am
Everybody talkin' the same thing,
it don't matter
E
When I pull out the hammer,
Am
Erica, Dabra, Blacka, Massa,
Cushion, and Cigarello
D
we had to mix, call it camello
Am
To ride dirty with 30 pecs
E
D
in back of the Merro Like Meek Mill to reach mills,
Am
Dm
my nigga, it's levels
C
D
Am
your peas, your cubes
Dm
D
Your peas, your cubes,
C
D
Dm
Am
Dm
your peas, your cubes
D
C
Got peas, got cubes, got peas, got cubes
D
C
Am
Dm
D
Got P's, got Q's,
C
D
Am
D
what the fuck we flame on, nigga?
Am
Guess we slidin' through
Eureka with the reefer
E
Em
Up there, I get em' cheaper,
Am
Get into the trap, then set it off, Latifah
E
Em
This is real life, man,
D
quarterbacks and receivers
Am
Touchdowns and sacks,
Hail Marys and run plates
E
Football Sunday, no, I'm Mickey Monday
D
Am
Next day air,
they pick em' up on the runway
D
don't give a nigga that gunplay
Am
Gas, got that 91 up,
E
Em
and it's strictly for my niggas
Am
E
Am
Chopper got a nose like the 91 shot,
E
out the whole hundred rounds,
Am
Crop season niggas lookin' for a reason,
E
D
it's Thanksgiving, I bring it to the table,
niggas eatin'
Am
Crop season niggas lookin' for a reason
E
D
Am
C
F
D
C
and leave one of you fuck niggas bleedin' I play silver
D
Am
F
Dm
D
C
D
Am
Dm
D
C
D
Am
D
C
Em
Em
Take it over my brother, take it over
Take it over my brother, take it over
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