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