Key: C major
Verse 1
E
Dm
Fm
Welcome back.
and I'm Trevon Jones,
and I've been conversing
with the Mad Rapper,
and quite frankly, he's very mad.
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F
We're going to try to find out why,
so we'll take some questions
at this point
from our studio audience.
Hi, my name is Shay,
why you so mad?
Yeah.
Like, what are you so mad about?
Yeah, you know, yo,
you want to know why?
You know what
You know what I'm saying?
You can't be asking me no
question.
I'm going to tell you why I'm mad.
I'm going to tell you why I'm mad.
I'm going to tell you
why I'm mad.
you know what saying?
They driving around in hot cars,
you know what I'm saying?
Fm
They got bitches, they got all that shit.
you know what I'm saying?
You know what I'm saying?
I'm making records.
This my fourth album, yo.
This my fourth album.
I ain't made a dime yet.
This nigga made one album,
he making wild records.
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that ready to last shit it was I it was I you don't say she was I it was cool but my shit more John Blaze than that I got John Blaze shit
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F
Fm
F
Fm
F
and ain't I was recognizing a nice and I re cognize and fuck is that who's you to be asking me questions
C
F
C
F
C
F
And you, this goes out to you,
this goes out to you,
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F
this goes out to you,
what's short like leprechauns
As I crush so -called willies,
thugs, and rapadons
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F
Get in that ass, quick, fast, like Ramadan
It's that rap phenomenon,
white intake, like totes
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F
C
F
Toe iron, what's told in shootouts
stay low and keep firing
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C
Keep extra clips for ex tra shit
The most shady, Frankie baby
Howard homecoming
With my man Capone dumb
Went from 10 G's for flow
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to 30 G's a show
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To all G's with O's
I never seen before
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If the beef between us, we can settle it
You're delicate, you better git
Who sent ya?
All you heard was Papa
don't hit me no more
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F
Kick in the door, wave in the 4 -4
All you heard was Papa
don't hit me no more
B
C
F
Kick in the door, wave in the 4 -4
All you heard was Papa
don't hit me no more
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F
Kick in the door, wave in the 4 -4
don't hit me no more
when I spark you're wet
Look how dark you get
when you're marked for death
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F
Should I start your breath
or should I let you die?
In fear you start to cry, ask why?
You cursed it, but rehearsed it
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I drop unexpectedly like bird shit,
for royalties and show money
Don't forget the publishing,
Son, I'm surprised you run with them,
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F
Mad I smoke hy dro,
rock diamonds that stick
Got paid off my flow,
rhyme with my own clip
I know you praying you was rich,
fucking prick
All you heard was, Papa,
don't hit me no more
C
F
Kick in the door, wave in the 4 -4
All you heard was, Papa,
don't hit me no more
B
C
F
Kick in the door, wave in the 4 -4
All you heard was, Papa,
don't hit me no more
B
F
Kick in the door, wave in the 4 -4
don't hit me no more
choose to use
Disrespectful views on the king of NY
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F
Fuck that, why try,
throw bleach in your eye
Now you're braillin' it,
snatch that light shit, I'm scalin' it
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Conscience of your nonsense,
in 88, sold more powder than
Bb
C
Johnson & Johnson,
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F
toke steel like Bronson, vigilante
they siblings
Nothin' but my children, one shot,
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they disappearin'
to be on party shit
Took home, ready to die,
listen, studied shit
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Now they on some money shit,
successful out the blue
They lightweight, fragile,
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my 9 mili make the whites shake
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsE Dm Fm F C...
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