Key: G# minor
Verse 1
B
Em
D
Dm
Put
B
Em
some fire
on that ass end of dat weed
Verse 2
Em
left hand dap
D
Dm
B
P- funk be ridin' shot gun escort
mornin' slap some
B
Em
Soul in my bread basket gap contain
"x" marks the spot
B
Em
A stew of empty gas in my tank
in you ear
or maybe perhaps sleet
Bm
Em
Rap up the beat outside barely
made it to your wake
B
Em
Niggas ain't gonna be able
to just get by no mo'
D
Dm
You leavin' the hotel 254
Verse 3
With the ten dollar bill,
D
got that London Fog out the back paid the man
B
Em
Me and Khujo and T- Boo,
three jack lumbers
Em
half these figures around me be hollering Newt
politician did for you
B
Em
Complain, complain but Mr.
Clampett ain't gon' change
your pockets out
B
Em
I heard Bill put two G's up
for some folks
beat up and I don't discuss
B
Em
That color scheme that they fall on
Cause the scheme that they fall
B
Em
See, I wonder will I walk the
streets in 1995
B
Em
I can't do shit but get mad
Verse 4
B
Em
Without your shank you can't thank
Without your niggas you up the creek,
D
Dm
stank with a ass fool of ore
B
Em
Taking what I say for what it's worth,
it don't matter
thoughts I had in the past
I know about mines, unwind,
D
Dm
can't take at times going through
B
Em
The same drama that got me
here in this state of mind
Dm
First
Verse 5
D
Em
of all, I stand a little more
than five feet tall
But we can still brawl nigga,
I ain't scared at all
I guess you niggas don't
know or can't see
That it ain't even wise stepping
to me incorrectly
feel they can deal
I will split your ass up for real,
cause we the maniacs
With the chunky goodie sac's, so
I don't carry an ax
But I still swing low with the lumber jax
B
Em
Tracks are being made
B
Em
Ain't getting paid for chilling,
illing, willing
Dm
Bm
thru your speaker
D
weaker
Bm
Em
Because I'm more than
When I pick up a microphone it's on
B
Em
Them better leave me alone,
I'm in my zone
D
Dm
Prone to snap if you offer me a chance
B
Em
Like it when them chunky hoes can dance,
I'll enhance
D
Dm
The microphone when it's in my grip,
I do not slip
B
Em
I can't forget my nigga's Jo, T- Mo,
and Gipp
D
Dm
Ha- ha- ha, well Great Scott, is he a thief?
B
Em
It seems like he has a mouth
full of gold teeth
Dm
D
s can't take the glare
Bm
Em
But Cee- Lo, him don't care, I
cut off all my hair
when we come in the place
Dm
B
Em
And I can get on the mic with
no time to waste
kick the flavor you taste
B
Em
And when I'm on the microphone,
it's a damn disgrace
what I'm saying to you
B
Em
And I'm the C, the double E
from the Goodie Mo Crew
ooh, I can't even stop
And my nigga Mike L, and Bert P
And my nigga Pretty Ken,
you know he down with me
Em
We from Atlanta, G- A, that is where we stay
each and every day
Em
Ooh shit!
Em
Put
Verse 6
B
Em
some fire on
that ass end of dat weed
B
Em
Put some fire on that ass
end of dat weed
Em
B
don't drip or bleed
end of dat weed
Dm
Em
s don't drip or bleed
B
Em
Put some fire on that ass
end of dat weed
don't drip or bleed
Put some fire on that ass
end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red hots
Put some fire on that ass
end of dat weed
Cause in da swat's red
hots don't drip or bleed
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsB Em D Dm Bm
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