Come With Me (Freestyle) chords by J.R. Writer
Verse 1
Em
Em
Uh, okay, turn my mic up
Em
Alright, that's straight
Em
Harlem, NYC
Uh, come home with me, man
Yo, I'm with the thug belt
B
Em
Get your guns out
My crib shittin' on them
You can call it Ron's house
So keep a shut mouth
Slouch, I'm playin' with Odo
Cameras everywhere
Like they gave me my own show
Sprayin' since Flo Jones
Makin' them foes blow
How you lettin' gats off?
You stay with the po -po,
shame on these bozos
Who ain't never hold a gat, load a clap
Every toast I pack him with
a shoulder strap
B
Em
Throw your shoulder back,
B
anytime it blow a cap
Em
Soon as I clean up your block,
B
Em
I'll need a shoulder patch
So relax, I'm suckin' free
Yuppie G, ask your mother B
Ask them could you and fuck with me
B
Em
I'll send them up a tree,
give them what they wanna see
Let a couple squeeze,
that'll sting them like a bumblebee
Sit him underneath him
thinkin' that he ready
Rip him to confetti
while he's sittin' in the Chevy
B
Em
I got guns I can barely lift up,
man, they heavy
But my Dominicans'll come and
stick you with machetes
These niggas jelly,
on DVDs with tunes and shit
Or would I show you the gun
that I'm gon' shoot you with?
What's with the stupidness
and who you talkin' stupid with?
Have my niggas come and sling on you
like I threw a pitch
Make him strip what you wear,
that includes your kicks
Then put the bitch in the air
like some stewardess
B
Em
He'll get crucifixed
for actin' like a uterus
Your girl ain't try and work out,
but she wanna do the dips
I'm what you call exclusiveness,
check my coogee knit
I walk up in the showroom,
I wanna choose a fit
Excuse my kicks, for these I had to do a trip
My mixtapes had you sick,
you gon' puke to this
Who you with, what sex you claim,
forget your gang
For them chips will come and jump
you like a checkers game
B
Em
Was complicated, you constipated,
I never strain
After I shit on a nigga,
B
he ain't gon' smell the same
Em
Check your name, I come from the decks,
we can let him bang
And let him hang,
if he singin' like Eddie Cain
Who said I'm lame?
B
I'll carve him for the gravy
Em
Then pull off in a Mercedes,
I'm a Harlem n***a, baby
You crazy?
You gon' need the Army and the Navy
How could the kid fall off?
My barber couldn't phase me
I'm from the 80s,
partnered with Yufu Geisy
Family full of actors,
the squad is like the Bravies Pardon
I get hazy, down to offer n***a lately
Set the rocket on his chest,
turn the baller to McGravy
You crazy?
B
Em
Look at me in my face, I'm out in space
Try to look for me as a waste,
the crook is seeing some cake
VVs in the face and enough change
to put Mr. T in his place
Holla!
Come With Me (Freestyle)
J.R. Writer
Speed: 1.0x
RestartPlay SpaceEnable loopDisable audioMore songs by J.R. Writer
Discover chords for more songs to play
Related songs
Discover chords for more songs to play
5.0Popular chords globally
Most played chords & tabs across all users