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