Key: F# minor
Verse 1
Cm
Gm
I
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D
Gm
was
Cm
Gm
F#
F#aug
F#
Gm
Eb
Cm
born in 71' in Kansas City, MO
so the fam was pretty slow
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F#
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When it came to rap and
Bm
Cm
R&B and plenty more
Bb
apostle
Gm
Bb
Or written in the Bible, then it go
something then I end up doing it anyway
it's the evil music of today
F#
But, I really fell in love with the sound that was
Bm
F#
Bb
Cm
coming out form the East Coast
Gm
Bb
So we got it and twisted it up a bit,
Cm
Eb
Cm
Some say that rap is dead,
but when I get the white, black, and red
Gm
And jump on the tour bus, do fifty eight shows,
then I'm back with a big black sack of bread
D
Bb
Gm
cause I'm here with a stack of fed
Gm
or whatever
Cm
Gm
the mic in hand with my rap at tire
Bb
Gm
Bb
Gm
And I like my fans spending
grands cause we got the fire
D
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I merchandise like 5 G's
F#
Bb
every half an hour
Gm
An d you cry like a baby so your mic must be
Interlude 1
your pacifier
Eb
Cm
Gm
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F#
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[Chorus: Repeat
Verse 2
them rapper's sounding like
Gm
F#
Wah wah wah (Crybaby)
Wah wah wah (Whatcha crying
bout?)
Verse 3
F#aug
Bb
Gm
Eliminating player haters with their evil spirits
Verse 4
Bb
Run up to the car, pull out the mac lethal
in the world there's a lot of dough to stack
Gm
Bb
And the ones that wanna hold us back
to where the shoulders at
off them chips they got
screwed and chopped
But you wanna get off in they pot
Gm
Bb
'Cause they eighty fours be poking out
Cm
Gm
Bb
What the hell is you cryin' bout?
but not for reala
Bout the method of making money
Eb
Bb
By doin' it like I do it do the work
and believe in it
no problem achieving it
Bm
F#
Gm
Got on the mic with the intent to kill
Stronger than ever, and you a gimp for real
Eb
I drink Caribou Lou, and you drink Enfamil, chump
Cm
Interlude 2
Gm
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F#
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Gm
Cm
Verse 5
Cm
[Chorus:]
Eb
Gm
F#
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You
Gm
Eb
Cm
should be clapping
when folk make it up outta the ghetto
Or trailer park,
Gm
it don't matter even if he black or if he guerro
F#
Gm
you probably in a stiletto
Better yet in a baby shoe,
jealous or maybe you
Sick of me cause I'm making dinero
Bb
Eb
Cm
And you don't wanna get clapped at
You want a standing
ovation? I thought not!
Gm
You say you better than rappers on radio,
Try to run up on me,
Bb
'cause a benzo will never be in your car slot
my infra- red beam's right at your soft spot
Cm
Eb
Cm
If you was on TV and balling you
wouldn't groan and trip
and bloodshed on his lip
Bb
Gm
things on his whip
not stop the hop
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F#
clock stops the shots
Bb
Gm
And I can quickly bury you in your Osh Kosh B'Gosh,
baby
Outro 1
[Chorus:]
Gm
Eb
Cm
Gm
F#
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Gm
Cm
Gm
F#
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Gm
F#
Gm
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