Key: B minor
Verse 1
C
tro: Spice 1)
wrong huh?
scared?
What, you can't talk with a mother
Am
C
fuckin' gun in your mouth nigga?
Am
C
I'm gonna give you a three count
Am
C
I'ma blow your motherfuckin' brains out
One, what you think
about, what you thinkin'?
I'm proud, two (kinda slick
motherfucker)
(*Gun blast*)
G
C
Nineteen motherfuckin'
Verse 2
G
C
nine-
Am
G
C
fo' comin' at cha
Gi- gi- gi- gi- gi- gi- gi- gi- gangsta
Spice motherfuckin' 1
Verse 3
G
C
eat they ass up like a Swason with
G
C
'fore he take his last breather
So come along take a trip
to the dirt track
Where the young niggas be takin' your
Am
G
motherfuckin' yay
C
G
C
G
keeps a fat gat for the funk in the East Bay
C
Am
mainly off gat, I'm goin' brain dead inside
C
G
Talkin' to my homies 'Scratchy'
on the nigga that peeled his cap so
Am
C
now I'm on the streets
With the dead motherfucker
in the passenger seat
G
C
Am
And it's fo' to the motherfuckin' five
G
C
G- a- gat that ass leave
'em dead in the ives
Red Rum on the late night,
Am
C
catch my case right at the crack hut
Niggas better back up,
G
Am
while I fix my sack up
C
Am
C
Pistol whip, shit, kick that ass quick
Am
C
Quick to rip shit,
G
C
cause I'm a Coca Cola Classic
Am
C
O.G. and D- Boyz got love for me,
D- Boyz got love for me
(*Interlude*)
Verse 4
B
F#m
F
tha- da-
C
Am
E
C
tha- tha- da- tha- tha
E
C
Da- tha- tha- da- tha- tha- da-
Am
C
tha- tha- da- tha- tha
Verse 5
C
(Spice 1)
I'ma chuck a dead body on your
Am
C
motherfuckin' lawn
like jump like Red gone,
C
Am
So call up the Paramedics and tell
G
C
I roll strapped with no love
upon my fuckin' trigger
Now he's a stiff black,
cause I was at that
But I go out and get a new gat,
Am
C
new gat and let 'em have it
Nigga, so D- Boyz got love for me
Verse 6
strap (pull out your strap)
Motherfucker got outta place
out my strap (pull out your strap)
Nigga got outta place,
youse got to pop him
Reach up in your draws and pull out your
Reach into your d- dun- dun- duns and pull
out your strap (pull out your strap)
Just call me Chef Boyardee- Boy,
soda for bakin'
Cupcakes and cookies,
rappies I'm makin' huh
Am
C
Tall cash, can't let eat up my grass
Am
C
G
with my 6RP226- Diana Ross cousin Nina - Mr. Meaner,
Heartless,
empty the cartridge roll
Smartless, get out and die so cold
Am
C
Hollow point hot ones dipped in garlic
I lives up the bar like an Alcoholic
Niggas think that I be bluffin' when I
tell 'em I'm a good shot
But I'm also into some other things
like ice picks and piano strings
So bitch, I'm tryin' to get nickerage
G
C
Open up shop, cotton candy and liquorice,
uh
Am
C
(Outro: Spice
Verse 7
1 & E- 40)
Am
Shoot 'em up now
C
Blaow! Spiggidy one whippin'
Am
C
up on dat ass for nine- four
Da- tha- tha- da- tha- tha- da- tha- tha
Shoot 'em up now, byd- a- bye- bye
Blaow! (Spiggity sp, sp, spiggity sp, sp,
spit nigga hahahahaha)
Me bust a cap up in your ass with big black gun,
byd- a- bye- bye
Am
C
Chill man, me roll down
the block with my nigga
Byd- a- bye- bye,
Am
C
Spiggidy one whippin' up on dat ass
Chill man, livin' in the city is a
motherfuckin' task
C
Am
(What's a 7- 0- 7 on er... your trunk
if y'all bitches didn't know)
Yeah bitch,
(Da- tha- tha, sing it with me,
C
(*Whistling*)
C
How did you like the song?
TunerE A D G B E
ChordsAm C G B F#m...
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