Tonart: G minor•
Verse 1
Gm
Creme de la creme homie,
top shelf ya know
I like my beat down low, down low, down low,
down low, down low, down low, down low
I like my top let back, let back, let back,
let back, let back, let back
Ay holla if ya like ya beat down low, down low,
down low, down low, down low, down low, down low
Eb
I like my top let back, let back,
let back, let back, let back, let back
Verse 2
Eb
Gm
Ay holla if ya like ya beat down low, down low,
down low, down low, down low, down low, down low
Eb
Gm
I like my top let back, let back, let back,
Eb
Gm
let back, let back, let back
Verse 3
Gm
I like my beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Gm
Bb
Gm
If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black
Verse 4
Gm
I like my beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
If ya rims sit high and ya
Bb
Gm
windows pitch black
Verse 5
Gm
I'm the man in my city,
ain't nobody fuckin' wit' me
You can ask the real niggas
and all the bad bitches
Eb
I'm a known drug dealer; I
always have fifties
And the thugs and the killers
Gm
was all in class wit' me
SS's on twenty-sixes,
watchin' some television
Shorty, I'm never slippin',
got the berretta in vision
Eb
And ready to pop the clip in,
ready to get to trippin'
Ready to show these folks a
C#
celebrity pistol whippin'
Eb
Gm
Pimp stolen' the automobile,
and the roof for the tag missin'
Polices try to pursue me; it's
nothin' but gas-given
Eb
Addicted Addicted to fast livin', yes,
I'm one of my dad's children
Think I'm bad now,
C#
Eb
you should a seen me be fore I had children
Gm
Give dick to ya daddy's daughter
and they oughta have children
Hope he got some insurance 'cause
I definitely have some endurance
Eb
Kill her in Mississippi and
drive her ass to Missouri
Still my wet pet drippin' while
C#
Eb
I'm woodgrain grippin'
Verse 6
beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Gm
If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black
Verse 7
Gm
I like my beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Gm
If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black
Verse 8
Gm
I got this Pimp Squad Click; I
know you heard about us
Young niggaz filthy rich,
and we ain't worried 'bout much
Eb
On this glock I clutch
In God I trust, if a punk nigga start,
bet his heart I bust
Gm
Got ya partners and the broad
in ya car fucked up
What ya under estimation
thought a star wouldn't bust
Eb
I got the heart and the guts
on this perp I blow
Move ten bricks daily,
C#
Eb
tryin' to twerk five mo'
Gm
Ya see the Cadillac swervin'
down Hollywood Road
On the flyest bird in Cali,
fuckin' Hollywood hos
Eb
On a pill and half with my partner
Young Dro Dro
Bumpin' Goodie Mob Soul
C#
Eb
Food number fo'
Gm
Other rappers', old dudes,
told dudes I'm a pro
With a loaded fo' fo' and a quarter
brick of blow
Eb
(Hey), nigga, don't you hit me
'less you buyin' six or mo'
My twenty-four blades blades glistenin',
F
Gm
and my 808 kickin'
Verse 9
I like my beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Gm
If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black
Verse 10
Gm
I like my beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Gm
If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black
Verse 11
Gm
I wear the crown down under, man,
somebody better tell 'em
'For I spit a hundred rounds
and have everybody bailin'
Eb
I got some bitches in a Benz and
my partners in the Chevy
And now we ridin' Giovanni's
F
Gm
and Asani's on Pirellis
If ya ever think ya tryin' to run up on me,
just forget it
The clip in the chopper long as ya
leg and leave ya shredded
Eb
Pistol way in the truck, and my knife on tuck
Ya think he ain't gettin' stuck,
Gm
you got life fucked up
A couple stiches in ya hip will
have ya night fucked up
Will he live? Will he die? Guess
he might luck up
Meanwhile,
Eb
I'm racin' my Ferarri like a light for a buck
Against Lamborghini Gallardo
Gm
Eb
every time I get a car
Verse 12
beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Gm
Bb
Gm
If ya rims sit high and ya windows pitch black
Verse 13
Gm
I like my beat down low
and my top let back
Can see me ridin' twenty-fours
with with a chopper in the back
Eb
Ya like ya Kenwood hot and ya top let back
Bb
If ya rims sit high and ya windows
Outro 1
Gm
Eb
Bb
Gm
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TunerE A D G B E
Akkorde & SongtexteGm Eb Bb C# F
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