Mad Man Departure chords by Kool Keith
Verse 1
Eb
F
G
F
Yeah
Outro, Madman
Every time I see your mother
Ebm
Em
fuckin' ass
G
D
You're always with some mother
F
fuckers around you
You know why?
Ebm
Cause you're motherfuckin'
Em
G
Em
F
scared
But I'ma pick you out,
Ebm
Em
motherfucker
G
F
I like to boost myself
cause all you niggas can kiss my ass
Ebm
Eb
D
Critics lick my balls, bitches get jealous
F
Y 'all on some old funny -ass shit,
hang with a bunch of fellas
Ebm
Eb
You can't fuck with me,
G
D
shiny hair like Telly Civellas
F
Look at your favorite rap star,
Ebm
corny as a motherfucker
Em
D
Scarecrow hardcore,
Dm
F
I flip your tour bus over
Put your plug on your stage show,
Ebm
on your fuckin' tour
Em
G
Put a piece of your fuckin' hand
Em
F
in the refrigerator
Book your shit Monday,
you'll see me with three nig
Ebm
Dm
gas with stocking caps
G
Em
With sawed -off shotguns,
F
waitin' for your black ass
Then come the power play,
Ebm
blow your session away
Eb
D
You don't wanna fuck around,
F
I don't give a fuck if you in
the studio with bodyguards
Ebm
You can hide behind fucking Big Ray
Em
D
Bash you in the face with
F
a fucking ashtray
Move you out in a stretcher
Ebm
Walk you to the fucking ambulance
Em
D
With blood all over my fucking pants
F
That's what you get for trying to
do a b -boy stance
Ebm
Eb
Next, I'ma step to all you ho
G
mo -ass niggas that dance
F
Move that glittery shit out my vision
Ebm
And face the fucking collision
Em
F
Treat you like the life was group
27 years,
I'ma act like I'm in fucking prison
Ebm
Em
Say something now, motherfucker,
D
say something
F
I'll bite your fucking nose,
spit back in your fucking lap
Ebm
Em
See somethin' funny?
Bm
G
See somethin' funny?
F
See somethin' funny,
motherfucker?
Ebm
Amputate your face off,
D
fuck around,
cut your shoulder blade off
F
Disconnect three of your fingers,
you won't be able to point that shit
Ebm
Eb
D
Or wave a fuckin' cab down
F
Look at you bleedin' with that rap
shit on the fuckin' ground
Ebm
Em
G
That's right, motherfucker
F
You knew I was comin' to see
you from the beginning
Ebm
Em
Bet you was talkin' all that bullshit
G
Em
F
But I'ma see you in time, that's right
When I get to your motherfuckin' ass
Ebm
Em
I'ma work my way up there
G
Em
F
See, you's a fag ass nigga
You move to the suburbs
Ebm
D
You think you safe, working my phone
Dm
You can't go nowhere
F
Ebm
You high, you stay in old towns
Dm
D
And play Saint Genesis
F
And smoke a bitch a fucking weed
Ebm
That's right, looking at each other
Em
D
F
Fucking each other in the ass
Bullshitting man with a Playstation
Ebm
Em
I'ma tell you straight, I ain't no kid
D
F
I'm a grown ass fucking man
Ebm
Eb#m
Dm
you
F
Dm
D
F
Yeah, I don't think he's going to show up to a meeting,
y 'all.
D
See, Keith's the type of artist
F
to do his own thing.
Dm
There's no A &R out there
F
that can tell him how to make a record.
D
F
You can't tell him he needs to make something
Dm
like everyone else
F
Cause everyone else is just stealing his
Dm
originality and ideas anyway
D
I think we should cancel
F
D
the marketing meeting
Dm
As a big secret
F
Dm
Kevin Clickman,
Joe and Chris don't like Jeremy Lorna
D
So Ruff House politically had to
F
freeze my album
Dm
Regular Columbia don't know
what the hell is going on
D
With a sheisty distribution switch
Dm
F
behind my back
I worked on my album
Dm
February last year, 13 months passed by
D
Dm
All I heard was a bunch of lies
F
Dm
Six weeks in Contra Hocker
with a so -called manager
F
D
Uninvested, living off my budget
F
My LP was completed before
F#m
John Forte
D
Swore he'd these and pros
F
But too many secret fans
D
had their hands in the pan
F
When I got to Philadelphia
Dm
Everybody was waiting for
me with tracks
F
D
Dm
With a bag full of unconceptual debts
F
Dm
Thawed me off, distracted me
F
With Mark and Kate Mountain programming
D
Me on the basslines,
all my beats were slamming
D
Nothing they could tell us
F
While everybody except Tim
Devine was jealous
Dm
With my album leaking
F#
out to a bunch of critics
D
It was something stupid
Dm
the record company
F#m
F
and a scam booking agent
D
Dm
slash manager did
F#
F#m
D
Dumpin' my cassette for the industry,
Dm
it got silly
F#m
Opinions from people who don't
D
know jack about music
F
and the industry know what?
Dm
I had to do the album
F
Dm
practically over
F
Dm
This is a test press
D
F
Dm
White label test press
D
This is a test press
F
Dm
White label test press
F
Dm
This is a test press
F
Dm
White label test press
F
Dm
This is a test press
F
White label test press
D
Backlack return of the Jedi
Dm
While the average person
F
critiquing my album
Dm
Most MCs look at me with red eyes
F
DJs don't understand
D
my sound is too new
Dm
F
He can't feel it on the felt
D
He say he'll make it a hit
Dm
F
if I give him a Rolls Royce
And a Versace belt
D
Dm
Take care, program directors
F
D
Yeah, gonna call Billboard
Dm
F
when y send them a Mustang Ford
D
Then buy a 20 -page ad
Dm
F#m
about cool keep headbands
D
Soap art is in the sauce,
F#m
that'll get me the cover boss
D
Everybody's spoiled,
Dm
F#m
you're gonna have to buy video
D
shows to wash the machine
F
I got to step up the baton,
Dm
three river stadium like the Yankees
In the World Series
F
Dm
against the big red machine
D
F
Y gotta make it work,
every video producer
Dm
Y 'all gotta send them a V12
F
Dm
cause nobody wants a t -shirt
at Urban Network
F
D
Big truck productions need to hire
Dm
20 people on the phones
F
Callin' retail,
D
F
90 foot pictures of me and my daughter
Dm
Listed on the side of the building
F
Half of these records are wack
cause street teams get paid
D
F
Then pull out wax nipper tapes
D
out the wack backpacks
Dm
F
Get off early with a crew,
pile up in a Suburban
D
Go to the clubs and get the flats an
D
d posters and start serving
Dm
F
Dm
This is a Test Press
F
D
White Label Test Press
Dm
F
Dm
This is a Test Press
F
Dm
White Label Test Press
F
Dm
This is a Test Press
F
Dm
White Label Test Press
F
This is a Test Press
Dm
F
White Label Test Press
Dm
F
This is a test press
Dm
F
Dm
F
White Label Test Press
Dm
F
Dm
F
Yeah
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
D
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
F
Dm
Yeah, Cool
Dm
F
Keef, Black Snoop,
C#
and company, as we party, 2 -0 -0 -0
Step in, cold check, vocal supreme,
sound perfect
C#
You wack, man,
haven't you heard this?
Matador king,
Dm
ladies swarm around me like John B
C#
As I stop rapping, trying to copy Alpo,
Rich Port and AZ
My temperature's 1 ,003
Look at these big head kids
on labels trying to emcee
With a globe dome,
C#
I told you to tell that man to stay home
C#
Tell Russell to call me with Sylvia Rome
Bm
Gave him the gas,
now he got a pump in his ass
I don't care if you go
out with Stacey Dash
Written cars, you trying to copy Nas
Sound like KG,
you ain't my man from Cold Crush, KG
Don't try to play me,
you never made a record
with Moby and Master P
I saw you on the Greyhound
bus station floor
Db
Lay ing down with a durag
on like a circus clown
Strippers keep dancing around,
I'm Bronx bound
Your fans catch migraines
from me doing my thing
We sweet, unique, peak
Look at these ladies massaging our feet
We sweet, unique, peak
Look at these ladies massaging our feet
We sweet, unique, peak
Look at these ladies massaging our feet
We sweet, unique, peak
Look at these ladies massaging our feet
Yeah, yo, showdown, show shot
Double K, flow pop, navigate
Interactive flashback,
now who knifes with it?
Spit it on the block daily, part of it
Never shade it, slang the real,
send it to backstage
Flav, crater the raid, maze bump that
In my mezzanine controller,
high roller
Programmed, jammed, a quick access
Ass is on my lap, crouch, let's dip through
Y 'all need a piece of this mental
Plus a sip of this d*** in mouth
Either that or stop sleeping
Peepin' the next man's style
I elaborate on fraudulently
Stick to the wild, phone tap
We order ocean spray with that Fuji film,
honey spread that
Finger the d***, crack the fact
I'ma bounce with that
Yeah, bounce with that
Dance, uh, back to back, uh
Uh, yeah
We're sweet, unique, peak
Ladies massaging our feet.
With sweet, unique heat.
Ladies massaging our feet.
With sweet, unique heat.
Ladies massaging our feet.
With sweet, unique heat.
Ladies massaging our feet.
I'll
Mad Man Departure
Kool Keith
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