Guess Who's Back
Guess Who's Back

Guess Who's Back easy guitar chords by Scarface

N/A•
Guitar
Tuning

E A D G B E

Capo

Fret 1

Capo

Transpose

0

Capo

  • F

  • C

  • Em

  • Dm

  • Gm

    3

  • G

  • E

  • D

  • F

  • C

  • Em

  • Dm

  • Gm

    3

  • G

  • E

  • D

    • Verse 1
    Talk 
    to 
    me 
    man 

    This 
    ya boy 
    Young 
    Hova, 

    yo 
    turn 
    the motherfuck
    ing 
    noise 
    up

    We'll 
    get 
    right 
    into 
    the proceedings 

    this 
    evening 

    Headphones 
    are 
    distort
    ing, 

    bring 
    it 
    down 
    a 
    lil' 
    bit 

    Okay, 
    now 
    we 
    working 
    with 
    it 

    The boy 
    Face 
    on 
    the bass 
    line, 

    Face 
    -
    Mob! 

    Welcome 
    to New 
    York 
    City, 

    it's 
    ya 
    boy 
    Young 
    Hov' chea 


    Kanye West 
    on 
    the track 
    (whoo!) Chi- 
    Town, 

    what's going 
    on 
    now? 

    Can 
    I talk 
    to y'all 
    for 
    a minute? 
    Lem

    me talk 
    to y'all 
    for a 
    minute 

    Just gim
    me 
    a minute 
    of 
    ya time 
    baby 
    - I 

    don't 
    want 
    much 
    (whoo!) 

    Lemme talk 
    to 
    these 
    motherfuckers, 

    uh
    h 

    Verse 2
    Guess 
    who's 
    bizack? 

    You still 
    smelling 
    crack 

    in my 
    clothes 

    Don't make 
    me 
    have 
    to 
    re

    lapse 
    on 
    these 
    hoes 

    Take 
    it 
    back 
    out 
    to taxing 
    them 
    roads 

    When 
    I was 
    hugging 
    it, 

    niggas 
    couldn't 
    do 
    nothing 
    with 
    it 

    Straight 
    from 
    the 
    oven 
    with 
    it, 

    came 
    from 
    the dirt 

    I 
    emerged 
    from 
    it 
    all without 

    a 
    stain 
    on 
    my 
    shirt 

    You 
    can 
    blame 
    my 
    old 
    earth, 

    for 
    the shit 
    she 
    instilled 
    in 
    me 

    Still 
    with 
    me, 
    pain 
    plus 
    work 

    Shit 
    she 
    made 
    me 
    milk 
    this 
    game 

    for 
    all 
    it's 
    worth 

    That's 
    right, 

    these 
    nig
    gas 
    can't 
    fuck 
    with 
    me 

    I'm call
    ing 
    guts 
    every 
    time, 

    drag 
    my 
    nuts 
    every 
    time 

    Homey, 
    we 
    make 
    a 
    great 

    combin
    ation 
    don't 
    we? 

    Me 
    and 
    the 
    Face 
    Mob, 

    every 
    time 
    we 
    face- 
    off 

    Face 
    it 
    y'all, 

    y'all 
    niggas 
    playing 
    ba
    sic 
    ball 

    I'm 
    on 
    the 
    block 
    like 

    I'm 
    eight 
    feet 
    tall 

    Homey, 
    I'm 
    in the 
    drop 

    with 
    the 
    AC 
    on 

    That's 
    why 
    the, 
    streets 
    embrace 
    me 
    dawg, 

    I'm so 
    cool! 

    Verse 3
    Guess 
    who's 
    bizack? 

    Back 
    on 
    the 
    block 
    with 

    the 
    old 
    Face 
    Mob 

    Mack 
    Mittens 
    and 
    Hov' 

    Don't 
    make 
    me 
    relapse 

    Back 
    to 
    the 
    block 
    with 
    the fo' 

    Cuz 
    this 
    street 
    shit 
    is 
    all 
    I know 

    Verse 4
    From 
    the 
    womb 
    to 
    the 
    tomb, 

    a 
    hot 
    pot 
    of 
    joy 
    and 
    a spoon 

    Trying 
    to 
    make 
    me 
    forty 

    thousand 
    and 
    move 

    Mo
    tels, 
    star- 
    studded, 

    rock 
    stars 
    and 
    goon
    s 

    Plain 
    clothes 
    wanna 
    run 
    in 
    my 
    room 

    But 
    nigga 
    guess 
    who's 
    bizack? It's 

    ya 
    boy 
    Face 
    Mob 

    Started 
    with 
    an 
    eightball, gotta 

    get 
    this 
    cake 
    dawg 

    Give 
    niggas 
    a 
    break, 
    nah, 

    you know 
    how 
    the 
    game 
    go 

    Fuck 
    you think 
    I slang 
    fo', 

    to 
    go 
    against 
    the 
    grain 
    (no) 

    I'm out 
    here 
    to 
    grind 
    mo', 

    rapped 
    up 
    in the 
    paper 
    chase 

    I wanna 
    fuck 
    a 
    fine 
    hoe 
    and 

    candy 
    paint 
    the 
    88 

    Don't 
    got 
    no 
    whole
    sale, 

    cause 
    that 
    ain't 
    how 
    I wanna 
    run 
    it 

    Here 
    take 
    these 
    five 
    stones 
    and 

    bring 
    a nigga 
    back 
    a 
    hundred 

    Gotta 
    see 
    my 
    feet 
    dude, 

    you 
    do 
    shit 
    a 
    fiend 
    do 

    The fire 
    get 
    too 
    hot 
    in the 
    kitchen, 

    I 
    hit 
    the streets 
    fool 

    Money 
    is 
    an 
    issue, 

    and 
    that's 
    on 
    the 
    fa' 
    shizzle my 
    nizzle 

    Ya 
    block 
    warm, 

    then 
    I 
    come 
    by 
    with 
    the 
    fizzle 

    And 
    make 
    fa' 
    sho' 
    I 
    get 
    to 
    work 
    mines, 

    for 
    part 
    of 
    the time 

    We 
    go 
    to 
    war 
    and you 
    ain't 
    making 

    a 
    dime 
    (ha ha!) 

    Cause I 
    got, 
    shit 
    to 
    lose, 

    a nigga 
    out 
    here 
    payin 
    his 
    dues 

    My 
    baby 
    walking 
    gotta 

    get 
    him 
    some 
    shoes 

    It's 
    a new 
    game 
    doing, 

    lemme 
    give 
    ya 
    the 
    rules 

    Get 
    outta 
    line 
    and I'ma 

    give 
    ya 
    the 
    blues 

    It's 
    a 
    new 
    game 
    doing, 

    lemme 
    give 
    ya 
    the 
    rules 

    Get 
    outta 
    line 
    and 
    I'ma 
    give 
    ya 
    the blues, 

    whoa! 

    Verse 5
    Guess 
    who's 
    bizack? 

    The boy 
    B. 
    Mizack, a.k.a. 

    Mr. 
    Crack- 
    A- Brick 

    Turn 
    a whole 
    one 
    from 
    a half 
    a 
    brick
    , 

    look 
    I mastered 
    this 

    You can 
    smell 
    it 
    once 

    the plastic 
    rips 

    A 
    hot 
    plate'll make 
    ya swell 

    up 
    if 
    ya gas
    ket 
    clicked 

    You can 
    make 
    ya chips 
    swell 

    up, ya 
    don't 
    have 
    to 
    pitch 

    Play 
    them 
    corners 
    like 
    a safety, 

    watch 
    the traf
    fic 
    switch 

    Young'n 
    never 
    pump 
    fake, 

    and 
    you'll 
    get pas
    t 
    the blitz 

    And keep 
    ya whole 
    hood 
    on 
    flip, 

    like 
    on 
    box- 
    spring 

    Pissy Mack 
    and 
    shit, 

    low 
    old 
    box 
    of 
    thing
    s 

    Strictly 
    glassy 
    shit, 

    I hug 
    the 
    block 
    like 
    a quart 
    of 
    water 

    Shit 
    I 
    used 
    to hug 
    a 
    corner 
    like 
    a 

    old 
    deuce 
    and 
    a 
    quarter 

    Till 
    like 
    deuce 
    in 
    the morning, 

    with 
    the 
    old 
    heads 

    Slanging 
    loose 
    quar
    ters, 

    this 
    Philly 
    cat 
    back 
    gatted (had it) 

    Still 
    fucking 
    with 
    them 
    crack 
    addicts 

    Still 
    busting 
    with 
    that 
    black- 
    matic 

    Verse 6
    Guess 
    who's 
    bizack? 

    Back on 
    the 
    block 
    with 
    the 
    old 
    Face 
    Mob 

    Mack 
    Mittens 
    and 
    Hov' 

    Don't 
    make 
    me 
    relapse 

    Back 
    to 
    the 
    block 
    with 
    the 
    fo' 

    Cuz 
    this 
    street 
    shit 
    is 
    all 
    I 
    know 

    Outro 1






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