Key: E minor
Verse 1
Fm
Gm
Fm
Oh, America!
Are you serious?
It is showtime, baby!
Here we go!
Ram, jam, slam, bam!
Gm
Dm
Uh -huh, yeah, yeah, yeah,
Gm
Dm
yeah
Gm
Dm
Jailwriter, man, I can't fuck with her
Be serious, man, yo
I'm a vet if you do think
And the pep will appeal me
Like chicken, I'm a bastard case
Dm
Gm
Whole grams, no fam,
I don't need the whole fam
Fm
Gm
Dm
It's just me, no Jim, no El, no Kim Zeke Locke,
F
Gm
Dm
now I'm itchin' to squeeze shots
I'm far as you cats flyin',
Gm
it's ridiculous, picture it, niggas, shit
Fm
Gm
Come at J .R. it'll backfire,
F
Fm
Gm
I feel like my style is a car on a flat tire
Dm
Gm
to even do what I do
dude with the crack
Trying to move you for stacks,
D
Dm
D
but kept getting high,
D
Dm
D
Scrat list, that ain't moving,
Gm
Dm
I had nights looking like a cat fight
Dm
Gm
I'm the sickest, see it gets vi cious
Gm
Fm
F
Gm
Bitch flop, I cannot hop, be realistic
Gm
Dm
breathe in that pith prick
Gm
Sleep on a dip trick and be on my shit list
your career is a gimmick
D
Dm
Get the player dumping,
bigger clips, get along
who in here frontin'
Gm
Dm
still I don't hear nothin'
We got bigger arms, bigger clips, get along
We don't have to get along,
You
F
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsFm Gm Dm F D
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