Back In The Lab chords by J.R. Writer
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Verse 1
(F major) Writer, okay, uh, I got him, just that, uh
Back to the lab, (D minor) wrap in a bag, (E minor)
roll (A minor) me a blunt, pass me a pack,
your dude's goin' in
(F major) I mastered the craft,
(D minor) laugh at the pas (E minor) t,
fo' (A minor) in the trunk, mash in the gas,
you're too slow to win
(F major) Who's dope as him?
(D minor) Late in the line, (E minor) so high, (A minor)
you would swear he had a license to fly
Look up (F major) , you might even
see him (D minor) right in the sky
(A minor) So high, I should give skydiving a try
Know why? (F major) I'm getting loot and bread
(D minor) Got these little (E minor) dudes fed
(A minor) Cause this rap shit to me
is easier than Superhead
(F major) That easy?
When she move to bed, (D minor) prick,
I'm on (E minor) the grind
Grind
(A minor) Lyrically inclined,
every sentence get rewinded
Rewinded
The (F major) kid is in his prime Prime
A (D minor) monster on (E minor) the track
Track
Taunting (A minor) all these cats
Where's the competition at?
Where they at?
(F major) They all spin crack
Crack
The (D minor) Carter couldn't (E minor) match
(A minor) Match Sharper than a tack
Whole Harlem on his back Harlem
It's a fact, you couldn't yell
R or shit, it's whack
I helped build the team
and put Harlem on the map
Come holla at a Mack,
who (D minor) got this in the raps
The nex (A minor) t album
I (D minor) had your girl polishin' his plaits (F major)
Uh, uh, then it's (D minor) right to the street
(E minor) Light on (A minor) my feet,
goonies that'll light you for cheap
Wipe (F major) you deceased,
knife you to sleep (D minor)
Put some (E minor) sneaks
even (A minor) though my pockets deep
It's Barry White (F major) on the beat, sheesh
I'm a beast with a (D minor) flow like a jazz
(E minor) Puss the (A minor) game so weak
that the throne's up for grabs
So I'm (F major) low on the ass,
with the (D minor) toast on my ab (A minor) s
Waitin' for the spit
so I can put the hoe in the bag
It's sad, (F major) but nigga,
I'm a (D minor) pro with the pas (E minor) t
Put the (A minor) mic there,
you're washed up and old as my dad
You're (F major) loaded with swag,
you couldn't (D minor) fly without a (E minor) pilot
You're (A minor) bummed out
and better off finding you a stylist
The (F major) future is me, and (D minor) tuners can be
(E minor) Ruge (A minor) an d T, shoot you for free,
salute to the G
Who's (F major) nothing but nicer,
(D minor) gunnin' the cypher
(E minor) Bot (A minor) tom line,
ain't nobody out as hungry as Ryder
Uh! Huh, you (D minor) hear that, man?
Y 'all (A minor) can't fuck with me at (F major) all, man
(D minor) I (F major) got (A minor) this shit on lock (D minor) and key
And I think I might've lost the key,
so y 'all assed out, man
Huh
(A minor) Let me get my zone though, man
Let me finish smokin' this purple,
countin' this money
And, uh, turn the music up
and get in my zone, man
Let's do it
Back In The Lab
J.R. Writer
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