Believe That

Believe That easy guitar chords by Lil Wayne

N/A
Guitar
Tuning

E A D G B E

Capo

Fret 1

Capo

Transpose

0

Capo
  • Am

  • C

  • F

  • E

  • Dm

  • B

    2
  • Em

  • Am

  • C

  • F

  • E

  • Dm

  • B

    2
  • Em

  • Verse 1
    Push 
    Impalas and 
    Caprices 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Starch flat, 
    no 
    creases 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    that 
    work, 

    you 
    a D 
    boy 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    You 
    H- 
    O- 
    Boy 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    You 
    a pimp, 
    you 
    got 
    them 
    hoes 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    That's 
    that 
    weed 
    smell 
    in 
    your 

    clothes 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Bet 
    a hundred, 

    shoot 
    hundred 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    This 
    my 
    block
    , I 
    run 
    it 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    them 
    20s on 
    ya 
    ride 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Croc or gat
    or 
    in
    side 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Fine 
    bitch, 
    bowleg (be

    lieve that 
    daddy) 

    And she 
    go 
    both 
    ways 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Slugged 
    up 
    in 
    the front 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    a trunk 
    full 
    of 
    bump 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got cribs, 
    cars, 
    bikes, 

    dykes 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    'Cause 
    that's 
    what 
    hoes 
    like 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Now 
    do 
    it 
    for 
    the ladies, 
    do 
    it for 
    the ladies 

    do 
    'cause 
    want 
    to push 

    a Caddy 
    or 
    Mercedes 

    do 
    it 
    for my 
    dudes, 

    do 
    it for 
    my 
    dudes 

    All 
    my niggas 
    on 
    the block 
    that 
    got 

    that 
    work 
    to 
    move 

    Verse 2
    It's 
    Weezy, baby, 

    young'n 
    from 
    the 
    Dirty 
    South 

    Get 
    up 
    your 
    dough, 

    I'm 
    putting 
    birdies 
    out

    Like 
    thirty 
    in 
    my 
    mouth, 
    so 
    I can 
    say 

    Fuck 
    you, 
    bitch, 

    you still 
    ain't 
    got 
    a dirty 
    mouth 

    The 
    hood 
    still 
    ain't got 
    over 
    the 
    drought 

    So 
    you 
    should 
    sleep 
    on 
    your 
    roof, 

    just 
    to watch 
    over 
    ya 
    house 

    Nigga, 
    we 
    Tymin', the 
    cost 
    of my 

    watch 
    over 
    ya 
    house 

    I'm a 
    boss 
    man, 

    watch 
    over 
    the 
    South 

    Jazze Pha, 
    let's 
    hop 
    in the 
    Lamby 

    Stop 
    by 
    Sammy, 
    chill 
    in 
    the hood, 

    you 
    good, 
    you 
    family 

    My 
    boys 
    like 
    to 
    pull 
    them 

    blammies, and 
    big 
    pimp 

    Mam
    suck 
    dick 
    'til 
    she 

    pull 
    your 
    hammy, 
    homey 

    You 
    know 
    we 
    only 
    keepin' 
    it 
    gangsta 

    Deep 
    in the 
    Range, 
    17 in 
    the 
    chamber

    All 
    need 
    is 
    my 
    banger, 
    nigga, 
    it's 
    Weezy 

    This 
    shit 
    over, 
    somebody 
    king 
    me 

    Push 
    Impalas and 
    Verse 3
    Caprices 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Starch 
    flat, 
    no 
    creases 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    that 
    work, 

    you 
    a D 
    boy 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    You 
    H- 
    O- 
    Boy 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    You 
    a pimp, 
    you 
    got 
    them 
    hoes 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    That's 
    that 
    weed 
    smell 
    in 
    your 
    clothes 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Bet a 
    hundred, 

    shoot 
    a hundred 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    This 
    my 
    block, 

    run 
    it 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    them 
    20s on 
    ya 
    ride 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Croc 
    or gator 
    in
    side 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Fine 
    bitch, 
    bowleg (believe that 
    daddy) 

    And 
    she 
    go 
    both 
    ways 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Slugged 
    up 
    in 
    the 
    front 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    a trunk 
    full 
    of 
    bump 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got cribs, 
    cars, 
    bikes, 

    dykes 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    'Cause 
    that's 
    what 
    hoes 
    like 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Now 
    I do 
    it for 
    the 
    ladies, 

    do 
    it 
    for the 
    ladies 

    I do 
    it 'cause 
    want 
    to 

    push 
    Caddy 
    or Mercedes 

    do 
    it for 
    my 
    dudes, 

    do 
    it for 
    my 
    dudes 

    All 
    my nig
    gas 
    on 
    the block 
    that 

    got 
    that 
    work 
    to 
    move 

    Yeah, 
    Verse 4
    you don't 
    want 
    to play 
    with 
    me, 

    touch 
    you, man 

    Lose 
    your man 
    in 
    tussle, 

    but 
    y'all 
    don't 
    see 
    me 

    Y'all 
    can't 
    hear 
    me, 
    this 
    a Def 
    Jam, 

    call 
    me 
    Russell, 
    man 

    played 
    on 
    Mar
    tin, 

    call 
    me 
    hustle, 
    man 

    And now 
    y'all 
    know 
    I'm 
    the 

    yay
    o muscle, 
    man 

    But 
    on 
    the 
    under, 
    got 
    that 
    wonder, 

    to stop 
    that 
    thunder 

    That 
    rumble 
    in 
    the side 
    of 
    your 
    stomach, 

    piled 
    on 
    water

    How 
    do you 
    want 
    it, 

    come 
    through 
    in 
    a Coupe 
    powder 
    blue 
    or

    Aqua 
    water
    how 
    do 
    you 
    want 
    it, 

    man? 

    Hey, 
    tote 
    a lot 
    of 
    toolies, dun

    done 
    broke 
    a lot 
    of 
    hoopties dun 

    done 
    drove 
    lot 
    of 
    QPs from 

    here 
    and there 
    on 
    the 
    road 

    But 
    nig
    ga 
    got
    ta 
    move 
    this, 
    son, 

    and 
    show 
    you 
    how to 
    do 
    this, 
    son 

    That's 
    that 
    boy 
    Weezy Wee, 
    yeah, 

    CMB, bitch, 
    in 
    your 
    stom
    ach 

    Push 
    Impalas and 
    Verse 5
    Caprices 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Starch 
    flat, 
    no 
    creases 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    that 
    work, 

    you 
    boy 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    You 
    H- 
    O- 
    Boy 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    You 
    a pimp, 
    you 
    got 
    them 
    hoes 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    That's 
    that 
    weed 
    smell 
    in 
    your 
    clothes 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Bet a hundred, 

    shoot 
    a hundred 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    This 
    my 
    block
    , I 
    run 
    it 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    them 
    20s on 
    ya 
    ride 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Croc 
    or gator 
    inside 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Fine 
    bitch, 

    bowleg (believe that 
    daddy) 

    And 
    she 
    go 
    both 
    ways 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Slugged 
    up 
    in 
    the front 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got 
    a trunk 
    full 
    of 
    bump 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Got cribs, 
    cars, 
    bikes, 

    dykes 
    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    'Cause 
    that's 
    what 
    hoes 
    like 

    (believe that 
    daddy) 

    Now 
    do 
    it 
    for 
    the ladies, 

    do 
    it for 
    the 
    ladies 

    do 
    it 
    'cause 
    want 
    to push 

    a Caddy 
    or 
    Mercedes 

    do 
    it 
    for my 
    dudes, 
    do 
    it for 
    my 
    dudes 

    All 
    my 
    niggas 
    on 
    the 
    block 

    Outro 1
    that 
    got 
    that 
    work 
    to 
    move 


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