Key: G minor•
Verse 1
Dre, he a Compton- Compton O.G.
Nas, he a QB- QB true G
Do the history
Verse 2
Gm
Way before The Firm, like back in the day
Nas was the first New York
**** rappin' with Dre
So of course I got a track to bring
it back to your face
The one kid that would've been
Aftermath that got away
Verse 3
every several years
To sprinkle,
a little bit of Heaven for your ears
Relax sippin' Calico in Rio,
stupid ****
Low- key, know G's,
but it's still Gucci luggage
Verse 4
fly **** with gray eyes
Wrestle in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate,
why? 'Cause I can vision
Collages and images of my lies
with no regret to hate
Verse 5
is all about the rules
It's hard for you to breathe
like you at high altitude
So crack the Patrón, it's on heathens,
The God's back
Hard body, Mr. Jones never leavin'
Verse 6
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
East to West Coast we riders
Verse 7
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
East to West coasting, oh yeah
Verse 8
Mix that with a QB- QB true G
What you got's a **** of some
different ghetto blocks
West Coast kill the tracks,
East Coast gunshots
Verse 9
Mix that with a QB- QB true G
What you got's a **** of some
different ghetto blocks
West Coast kill the tracks,
East Coast gun
Verse 10
1995, eleven years from the day I'm in the record shop
Gm
with choices to make
'Illmati' on the top shelf,
'The Chronic' on the left homie
Wanna cop both but only
got a twenty on me
Verse 11
the twenty on a dub sack
Ripped the package off
'Illmatic' and bumped that
For my **** it was too
complex when Nas rhymed
I was the only Compton **** with
a 'New York State of Mind'
Verse 12
bangin' The Firm
Dre was king then so I waited my turn
Fast forward,
now I'm makin' 'em burn
Ended my peers careers, hollered at Nas,
a hard lesson was learned
Verse 13
like he did with Jigga
I stopped beefin' with ****, 'cause
I'm 'Ether' to ****
Comb the earth 'til there's no one left
'If I Ruled the World' I summons all
you weak rap **** to death
Verse 14
Mix that with a QB- QB true G
What you got's a **** of some
different ghetto blocks
West Coast kill the tracks,
East Coast gunshots
Verse 15
F
Gm
Come off the dice game with a fortune walkin',
you a walkin' coffin'
The musket I tucked it,
you bluff it I bust it
You're sideways talkin', so I lay often
Verse 16
to duct tape hatin'
****, get bucked ****
Pluck ashes of Cuban cigars,
you foolin' with Nas
That's my name and I came
with Rugers this time
Verse 17
Plane' movie's the bomb
Word to my mom's name
tattooed to my arm
You can't revolve me, embalm me,
calm me or harm me
Rob me or dodge these bullets
I'm bustin'
Verse 18
I open up the tripod to put the Gatling on,
and I start clappin'
Nasty man, from baggin' grams
and runnin' from cops
To a mill' on the hand, a mill' on the watch,
I'm **** with Doc
Verse 19
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
East to West Coast we riders
Verse 20
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
Outro 1
East to West Coast, oh yeah
Gm
Gm
Gm
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsGm Cm F
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