Lobo Wanna Raise chords by South Park Mexican

SimplifiedAm · Em · C · B · E …

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Verse 1
Am 
Uh, I'm picking my voice a bit, just a bit man,
Em 
Am 
just a bit man, yeah, just a bit, just a little bit, yeah
Flippin', XO trippin',
C 
Am 
oh shit
Flippin', XO trippin',
got the new kicks from the
C 
boy Scottie Pippin'
Am 
Still ain't livin', skin off the chicken
And you hoes already know
Em 
what I'm sip pin'
Am 
Still a big dip per, still a straight killer
Still unloadin' off the 18 -wheeler
C 
Am 
Nobody better, never ever ever
Glass on my leg like the
Em 
girl Cinderella
Am 
Hand on my redder, surf on the netter
C 
Lookin' for a shredder in a polo sweater
Am 
Beef gets settled, straight from the ghetto
Say you comin' back home,
Em 
boy I keep the spittle
Am 
Hillwood Tex ans, not many mesquites
Except the one that got
the two 600 engines
C 
Am 
Don't ask questions,
don't give answers
Sitting at the bar cause I'm
Em 
not a good dancer
Am 
It's the day af  ter, pray for me pastor
Mix a lil' purple with the
strawberry shaster
C 
Am 
Water, cream, soda,
rolling in the Cobra
Motherfucking thug,
Em 
born the 5th of October
Am 
Serving that coca, it's the V the Loca
Catch her at the club,
Em 
I'm a slapper then choker
C 
Am 
Still about to howl it, bite it and I shot it
Call it what you call it,
more brown bags and sonic
men
I'm abracadabra,
struggler not a straggler
Bubbler not a babbler,
hustler not a hassler
C 
Am 
Never been a bachelor,
always been married
To these fucking streets,
stay in love till I'm buried
Now I'm a swang, I'm a swerve,
I think I'm seeing blurred
With my boy Serge in the
C 
truck watching Spurs
Am 
With my Persian princess on 22 inches
When I sleep she say that my
trigger finger twitches
Em 
Am 
I'm superstitious and I'm livin' ghosts
C 
So many hoes wanna be with the loafs
Am 
I'm tweakin' on the motherfuckin'
weed that I smoke
Throwin' 95 on my
Em 
motherfuckin' boat
Am 
Ridin' them waves,
chunkin' up my trays
Noble call me up talkin'
bout he wanna raise
C 
Am 
Crime show pays, don't do braids
Keep a low cut like the boy
Em 
Norman Bates
Am 
Battles in the shakes,
jumps in the brakes
White candy paint look
C 
like the pearly gates
Am 
Sellin' my tapes in 50 different states
Fuck the radio,
Em 
cause you motherfuckers hate
Am 
But it's all good, I'm from a small hood
Ties bitches up and bring them
back to heel wood
In my Levi's, sag down to my lugs
Em 
With a t -shirt that say weed is not drugs
Am 
Be one of us, live in the rush
Just put diamonds on my baby's hairbrush
C 
Am 
I fuck with the plus and not the minus
Em 
And I might just let my black 9 bus
C 
Am 
And it goes like, uh,
y 'all ain't ready for this, uh -uh
C 
Y 'all ain't ready for this, uh,
Am 
y 'all ain't ready for this
Come on, you no ready for this
Em 
Am 
I   tighten up my laces,
I'm a brand new Stacey's
Hug and kiss my babies,
then call up my crazies
C 
Am 
Tryna make it through another
day ain't all easy
Motherfuckers hate cause
Em 
I'm on top like ZZ
Am 
Young niggas think we out here
playing fucking games
To one nigga's looking at the
other nigga's brains
C 
Am 
Laughed and we giggled
bout the words that I riddled
Now we stiff in a coffin,
rock hard and dick shriveled
Em 
Am 
Hopping along in my 54 bomb
Yes, I hate pigs like them boys of Islam
Dawn in the wind, not long till the end
No more talking,
Em 
my Glock in the palm of my hand
Am 
Alizé at the Mandalay
Got a car, they shot two,
the rest ran away
C 
That's how the shit get
Am 
done in the deep south
I'm in Vegas watching
Vargas knock a bitch out
Em 
B 
Am 
Ice glisten, politician on
the down and dirty
Peace to all my fuckin' raza
up in Albuquerque
C 
Am 
Signed a bonus with a uni,
now my house is roomy
Niggas wanna do me,
but you bitches nothin' to me
Em 
Am 
Understand my  killer's love,
makin' haters bloody
Actin' buddy,
but he softer than Silly Putty
Hangin' by a rope and gut
him like you do a goat
And on his neck,
write this on a fuckin' note
Em 
C 
Am 
Bitch isn't in  the wind,
what began has begun
Blast my heat once,
sweep him up and be done
C 
Am 
I'm one in a  catrillion,
motherfuckin' million
Layin' in my bed,
Em 
gettin' hit from a Brazilian
Am 
Momma  still bitchin',
gangsta still listen
I'm blowin' weed with them
boys from New Edition
C 
Am 
Man, I'm ballin', never ever fallin'
Skip to my Lou,
my motherfuckin' darlin'
And it goes like
Uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
C 
Y 'all ain't ready for this
Am 
Uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
Uh -uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
C 
Am 
So if you see him, see him,
Em 
go ahead tell him, tell him
Am 
Only music is my dope
C 
and I sell him, sell him
Am 
Or I sling him, sling him
It don't matter what you call it
My shit's so hot up on the hood
you better record it
B 
Am 
Now some of y 'all niggas
E 
D# 
think my heart is so warm
Am 
Em 
C 
Cold motherfucker, me, you the one,
Am 
non -motherfucker
Em 
Have your whole crew ducka -ducka
Am 
It happens when I pull out
Em 
my 9 -minute blocker
Am 
Nigga watcha, be careful
cause my blood gets hotter
Chunk that bullet out my gun,
C 
non -stopper
Am 
Remember when I used
to be a mic wrecker
With the grace of Yahweh
Em 
C 
I come to be the mic checker
B 
Am 
Now it's better,
now that I'm making matcha
My belly stay full and my
C 
throat is never wetter
Am 
Hey Rebecca,
meet me at the backstage later
Cause when I go there with this
Em 
we gon' go down to
Am 
B 
Am 
Jamaica
That's what I'm talking about, for real
C 
See you later
Am 
Uh, y 'all ain't ready for this
I won it. All right.
Yeah, right.