Big Daddy Brown chords by People Under The Stairs

SimplifiedG · D · Gm

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Verse 1
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Man, I have to tell you about that time
Ron
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Isley beat me up in front of
a fast burger
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because I stole his pickles.
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I don't even like
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Jay -Z and the bitch.
Jay -Z.
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The analog airwave,
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traffic controller to send a sound wave.
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A vocal  through a solar flare, a time tear.
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Hold up,
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direct the headphones on a bus.
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Turn up , the treble doesn't break.
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Beats we trust, we took one part rust.
Off a city park bench,
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a couple concrete streets.
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A half a chain link fence,
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put it together and mixed it with a whole lot of heart.
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Then lay it in dance with
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talent in this hip -hop art
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We part the seas of ghetto
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disease with lyrical trees
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And keep the little kids, yo,
they all blessed like speed
Oh for sheez, the peace got learned
Like liquor stores got locs
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And I always  keep on my deck like double
K in the smokes
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I got a black
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Jeep bumpin' through your urban locale
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Your whole style is a wash
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You're used to throwin' a towel
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And while you're at it, add more fabric
Make that shit a full load
We always keep it fully
loaded in this area code
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3 -2 -3, specifically the cities, the heights
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And where the dogs run in packs
A fight with rats at midnight
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And if you happen to see a
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light in the attic, yo chill
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We makin' beats out of static field records,
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it's ill
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Ay, holla at your family,
tell them I'm comin' again
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It's super bad when I interwatch
my big -ass move
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Not a beginner,
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so I'm finna blow your head for a sec
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The boat is chillin' top full and
gainin' meth respect
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Servin' soul power to people
who lack when they rap
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Either that or gunpowder
laced up in your fat
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Blood through the grunt with the
country just met a vet
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On the death of perpetrators
passing the pink
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Like they got it, so we ride it away
Don't try to bring it up,
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you fuck like the disabled
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Stay home and watch cable,
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yo, you might see me
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And my buddies getting loaded
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Welcome to your little wack -ass show
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Hey, we stowed it and taking it back
To the other side of the tracks
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where the kings be at
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With big stacks of hot wax
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Pay tax to this when they play it for you
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Or we come and funky drum
in part two with the crew
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Putting hell on your front porch,
monkey rhyme singer
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Go on a playground where
little kids are found
and fit in, cause this ain't for you,
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no one adores you, we all ignore you
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I'm little boy black, with the payback rap,
cold -blooded, star -studded, bent, crash
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A type of sucker, ifsy, killin',
you know I'm killin' caps
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When I grab the people, seven is for your ducks,
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get out the way when we bust
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I'll call the coroner truck, and when they ask,
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say dark jeans, white t -shirt and black hat
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I'm done with the being stuck,
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do you hear the weed act?
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Yo, now, now,
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I'ma watch you, do it, what you say,
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what you say,
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I'ma move your body, don't move so much brother, don't move so much,
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I didn't know you was over here singing man, oh man, what you say, what
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you say,
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Outro
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Music
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