Key: E major
Intro 1
G#m
E
F#m
G#m
E
G#m
E
G#m
E
F#m
G#m
E
G#m
E
F#m
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F#m
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F#m
G#m
E
Bm
Verse 1
E
G
F#m
A mere fragmentation, chip off the old block,
F
With the insulated tubing of a football sock,
Rolling up my sleeves,
F
G
This I found, fine: that I write rhymes
for days; please, no praise,
F#m
F#
The latest craze is what's leaking from the deacon speak
F
E
ing freaking words like the Miami nightclub,
What's all the hubbub, Bub?
F#
E#
Got all the bits and particles of my articles,
Searching for the reason to guzzle,
F#
E#
drinking juice that ain't theirs,
Cold as ice from my stares,
E
G
Fein broken- hearted fit in non-
members credit card,
Verse 2
G#m
E
With my spiritual blessings I'm a
Keeping pressure off my chest,
peaceful sleeping like "Goodnight God,"
And slumber- chopping, lumbar- propelled,
Playing brain games to maintain,
G#
F#
We are the world, we are the children,
F#m
G#m
Am
Throw your hands to the ceiling,
G#m
E
C#
These fragmentations with high standards,
Thinking to yourself,
"They're so unique,"
Am
G#m
E
G#m
E
you better not speak 'til my en tire satieties satisfied society,
B
F#m
E
My variety is gaining notoriety.
B
A
Ah, that was "Fragmentation" on your
Verse 3
E
A
F#m
E
C#m
F#m
A
E
F#m
FM dial - W.
A
E
F#m
F.
G#m
F#m
E
R. A. G.
Interlude 1
E
A
E
F#m
A
E
F#m
A
B
F#m
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F#m
Am
G
G#m
D
E
Verse 4
D
Show me that emcee coming closer in comparison,
E
G
Embarrassing himself, trying to stand within my sphere
Dm
E
with metaphoric grind or fantasised rhymes,
Verse 5
D
E
Trapped in the biz of making
Dm
E
Dm
I'm a lyricist of past and current times,
E
D
the way I administer medication,
Dm
D
Calls at congregations to col
Dm
D
lapse the detonation,
Dm
D
Dm
Facing the fragmentation of breaking down of spirit by supernatural chemicals,
Dm
D
And let this rhythm see from Tennessee's beat gang,
Interlude 2
A
E
G#m
Verse 6
G#m
E
18 Avenue, South Side,
this style was compiled,
simply bonafide Southern pride,
E
Hails from Jacksonville, Florida, to Douglas,
E
G#m
C#m
Georgia, to Birmingham, Alabama,
Some may say this style is simplistic; they got it twisted,
G#m
there's millions in ghettos listening,
Tasting my vocal mystic,
F#m
E
F#m
E
G#m
E
Verse 7
E
G#m
E
My last part of a song ya'll might find odd,
G#m
E
I'm here under the assumption
that some of y'all might find God,
That's the only reason Grits loads clips and shoot
verses: to further the kingdom and give the ode,
You guys in hearses,
D#m
G#m
Shot breeze, now outing thou
The beat will fade out, but first
you'll hear it thinning,
Complete thought is needed to
follow this mental poetry,
Three dimensional images appeal close to spiritually if you're hearing me,
not with your ears but in your heart,
F#
E
Make connections with proper grounding,
your chest is pounding from these fragmentated- sounding, compound, round elements,
Outro 1
Natural- born thrillers wrought in Oliver Stone flicks.
E
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A
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Am
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F#m
A
G#m
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F#m
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D
G#m
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D
Bm
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsG#m E F#m Bm G...
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