Get The Hell On With That

Get The Hell On With That easy guitar chords by Fat Joe

N/A•
Guitar
Tuning

E A D G B E

Capo

Fret 1

Capo

Transpose

0

Capo

  • D

  • Eb

    6

  • Dm

  • D

  • Eb

    6

  • Dm

    • Verse 1
    D

    Whoa, whoa, whoa

    All you frontin' ass niggaz

    Callin' all frontin' ass bitches

    Yo, get the Hell on with that
    Verse 2

    Yo, yo, yo, yo
    D
    Eb

    Why you over there lookin' at me,
    D

    while my girl standin' there?

    These bitches actin' like they never

    seen a millionaire

    Feel my pockets,

    wanna really get your hands in there

    Now what it be like?

    You confused man,

    that shit don't even seem right
    Eb

    How you cats on your album
    D

    only three mics?

    Like 'Pac shit is funny to me

    All you niggaz livin' bummy wasn't

    fuckin' with me

    Now nigga get it on,

    soon you be dead and gone
    Verse 3
    D

    Shorty got a bubble all she
    Eb

    need the silicone
    D

    Love my A T L bitches,

    pay my bail bitches

    Type to let you fuck but

    never tell bitches

    Down ass hoes that'll grind that dough

    Catch me with another chick
    Eb

    and beat them down to a pulp
    D

    It's the F A T, to the J O E

    Drink cris' with the feds

    when they come for me

    No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G

    Number one with a slug,
    Eb

    what you ex pect from me?
    D

    Are you serious?
    Verse 4
    D

    If you see a nigga frontin'

    fake shit on his wrist

    Walk around all night,
    Eb
    D

    same bottle of Cris'

    (Say what, say what what?)

    (Say what, say what what?)

    If you see a bitch frontin' in

    her best friend's clothes
    Eb

    New sass weaven and fucked
    D

    up toes

    (Say what, say what what?)

    (Say what, say what what?)
    Verse 5
    D

    Now all my ladies put your hands up

    Nah mami, if you fuck for

    doe then you's a hoe

    And no I'm not the one
    Eb

    that don't drop the notes
    D

    I only ice the beef and rock the coat

    Think you gettin' somethin' from me

    your thoughts are broke

    Might get a little wheeze
    Eb

    and a salty throat
    D

    So get the Hell on with that,

    don't you weave and feel it

    Get the Hell on with that,

    I'm alright I'm just chillin'
    Verse 6
    D

    Chicken neck ass bitch tryin'

    to palm the dough
    Dm

    Should've charged me at the door,
    Eb

    I would let you know
    D

    Get the same jewel mouth

    full of heavy mo'

    Coulda made you a thug

    from the guy with the mo'

    But yo, I ain't never met

    a chick that was innocent
    Eb

    They all fuck some, eat some, never kiss
    D

    I know a lot that got

    skeed on and that was it

    See me in the video like,
    Verse 7

    "Bitch I sucked his dick"
    D

    You let him in at one time 'cause

    you thought he was fly

    Now you see him at the clubs,
    Eb
    D

    he don't pay you no mind

    (Say what, say what what?)

    (Say what, say what what?)

    Yo, every time you smoke,

    dude puff your 'dro

    But when it's time to go cop,
    Eb
    D

    he ain't got no dough

    (Say what, say what what?)

    (Say what, say what what?)

    Verse 8
    D

    Ludacris be the number one street,

    clown wishin 'em luck

    Cause I'm 'bout to make them break a leg
    Eb

    thinkin' I'm givin a FUCK
    D

    And you catch a beat, down,

    bottles is breakin', craniums crack

    Chairs thrown when the heat

    is attacked

    And you hear the street, sound,

    hitters and runners

    Killers and gunners,
    Eb

    winter to summer the niggaz that want us
    D

    Are headed East bound,

    trouble in West other than South

    Cover your chest,

    they cover your mouth
    Verse 9
    D

    I'm goin' deep down Dirty indeed,

    birdies in need
    Eb

    Thirty degrees and you heard it from me
    D

    But I'm 'bout to reach,

    around grabbin' my gun

    They scatter and run but I'm handlin'

    and havin' some fun

    They gotta keep, rounds up under the bed,

    up under the spread

    If it ain't then it ain't,
    Eb

    no wonder you dead
    D

    So go to sleep, now, throats is splitted

    And folks that get it they gotta get the hell

    on widdit, BIATCH
    Verse 10
    D

    Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim

    thug like they're the type

    But when it's time to go to war they run
    Eb
    D

    nin' for dear life

    (Say what, say what what?)

    (Say what, say what what?)

    Got this clown runnin' around

    like he's my fam
    Eb

    We did time in what joint? I don't know
    D

    you man

    (Say what, say what what?)

    (Say what, say what what?)
    Verse 11
    D
    Eb

    Yeah, T S, Terror
    D

    Get the Hell on with that,

    get the Hell on with that

    Yeah, Charlie Rock L D
    Eb

    Ton' Montana rest in peace, 2001
    D

    Get the Hell on with that,

    get the Hell on with that
    Outro 1

    Yeah
    D
    Eb

    D

    Eb

    D


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