Tonart: Eb major•
Verse 1
Bb
Carrying my enemies apart
Ab
Ripping out their heart
Letting them know that they got the wrong
Bb
one I mash on boys for fun
Ab
Just to let them know
this ain't a song bro
Cm
This is real, like people out here
Ab
Trynna rob me, rob me
Trynna make me go and catch a body
tell me you buzzed
Ab
Man, you ain't even really a thug
From the suburb, you joined a gang
Fm
Man, you got locked up, man
Ab
That ain't freaking raw,
that ain't freaking real, man
That's type of stuff that gets people
getting tryna play gangster
In a hospital, in a hospital, in a hospital
You don't even stick in a cell
Man, your pussy look so pretty
T .V. I stay where there are really killers
Killers and drug dealers
And people who really bang
real gang members
Not that suburban bullshit you pull
You ain't fucking real,
that's the thought of mine
And if you fuck with me,
I'm gon' put your ass in line
With motherfucking white stuff,
tryna portray a gangster
I'm just laughing, I make shit happen
I always was there for your little sorry ass
And what you wanna do,
you just tryna move fast
Real, real fast, pass me a piece
Fm
My nigga, you ain't even
Cm
hustle on the streets
Ab
Please, stop with the tough guy shit
My nigga in the prison, you a bent sucka dick
I don't fuck with mine,
I'm just for the real
Motherfucker, man,
Bb
they don't find out who you killed
That's when the real problems
Cause niggas gon' say you
ain't got no heart
Cause that's some wild ass shit, real talk
Ab
I'm gon' help this nigga walk
Cm
And get on the right fuckin' fuckin' path
And what happened, man?
Ab
You told me to kiss your ass
Bb
Ab
Kiss my ass, I'm a fuckin' star
I'm a fuckin' star, dude,
don't make me laugh
Cause you ain't even got the
Ab
Cause you ain't even gon'
motherfuckin' last
You gotta have a budget,
it's about relationships
You think people wanna fuck when
people come and chit about your shit
And then act disrespectful and then think
Cm
I'm supposed to fucking just let ya
Bb
Ab
Okay, go head homie, do it your way
Go guarantee your homie what you
don't have to fucking pay
For every fucking beat, for fucking videos
And don't think I don't
know about your little hoes
And all the extra fucking incomes
I told you homeboy,
I ain't the fucking one
Cm
And it's all good, it's all good and damn
Ab
If a nigga use me like
a motherfucking can
Don't try to fucking play with
my motherfucking mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, keep on trying
Two out at me, two out too
Man, nigga,
you just lookin' like a groupie
Bb
Hittin' everybody up,
tryin' to get a record deal
Ab
Nigga, that ain't the way shit
fuckin' work
You put in work,
then you get your numbers up
And after that, nigga,
they fuckin' hit you up
So good luck with all that bullshit
Nigga, I'm here, I really do
Rippin' my enemies apart, uh
Man, damn, nigga, gave you my heart
Bb
Damn, man, nigga, gave you my time
Ab
Fm
Ab
Now you out here, can I fly my shot?
Rippin' my enemies apart,
rippin' out their heart
Lettin' them know that they
got the wrong one
Bb
I mash on boys for fun
Ab
Just to let em know it ain't a song bro,
this is real
Bb
Ab
Like people out here tryna rob me, rob me
Bb
Tryna make me go and catch a body,
homie
Please don't tell me you buzzed
Man, you ain't even really a thug
Ab
Cm
You from the suburb, you joined the guerr -
Bb
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TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteBb Ab Cm Fm
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