Key: F# minor
Intro 1
Em
Gm
Em
C
Em
Gm
C
Em
C
Em
C
Em
C
Em
Verse 1
A lot of rappers ain't shit, they just bullshit
They wanna step on stage
and pop piles of shit
C#m
Em
You know I did it
Light up your inner skull,
C
Gm
and burn up your rectum
MC's are doo- doo I never
Fuck 'em,
like a bitch with no drawers on
Em
Gm
So you want a tape,
Em
Em
stupid- ass with pause on
Damn, I cut you off on my radio
Gm
C
Em
Piss on the pop charts and fake material
C
Gm
Rappers know I'm stupid mad,
C
Gm
Em
And fuck all your whack groups,
Em
Gm
Em
Now 1 Adam 12, with
C
Gm
But I'm on 8th floor,
Em
C
and ready to drop shit
Open the bag,
step aside and then let it pour
Hittin your brain like a current
through a lightbulb
Interlude 1
Beware yo, you're talkin out of your ass
C#m
C#
C#m
Em
Gm
Em
C#m
D
C#m
Em
Gm
Em
C#m
Em
D
C#m
C#
C#m
C
C#m
Em
C#m
Gm
Em
Verse 2
this much,
and you make that much
You come in your white Benz,
and pull up like Cap'n Crunch
But I don't give a fuck; I drive a Geo
Now who got the best rhymes?
While you stand stiff like
Gilligan with no Island
I burn the MC,
who wrote your fucked up style and
Cause I'm a get the axe out,
stoppin 'em
out the business
Oh you with a major?
Yo, I'm gettin busy and hyped up
tracks are fucked up
C
Gm
C
What dummy produced that?
C
Gm
Just like an outlaw,
smooth rugged and raw
C
Gm
I never roll with a clown,
when I'm out on tour
C
Gm
I'm not impressed,
Em
C
fuck around with that cheap style
Gm
C
School is lettin out now,
it's three o'clock
While rappers try to talk I step
away and keep walkin
Gm
Em
Fuck 'em! Male
rappers and females
C
Em
Cause you ain't worth two cents,
a bag with seashells
C
Em
Tryin to dance, tryin to talk,
Em
C
Tryin to preach, tryin to I'll
listen close chief
Em
Interlude 2
C
C#m
Em
Gm
C#m
D
C
Gm
C#m
C
Gm
Em
Em
Verse 3
Unless you write in,
and tell the company drop me
But I don't think so, c'mon Freddy
I woke up at 8 o'clock, I'm fuckin ready
10 weeks on Billboard,
Em
C
it's hard to tell
Em
C
the X'll get even
C
Em
C
your dirty ass is leavin
You're lettin off steam
Em
C
- oh yeah really?
Gm
C
No time for rat
turds, you're fuckin silly
Gm
C
Cause I'm a get mad,
Son of a bitch, step to me Rich
And watch the X flow reverse
MC's to the other side,
they get waxed though
You never knew I could rhyme?
I'm rollin all of you two- faced bastards
Ready or not,
that's why I always practice
Catch me off guard,
yo Sandman fuck you
I stand in the front while other
rappers they duck you
Come inside,
Em
Em
they try to sneak out the back door
the whack more
C
Em
Fuck 'em, I got some shit
with tons of mega shit
you ain't jack shit
C
Gm
go 'head with that whack shit
Aiyyo duke, you're talkin out
Interlude 3
of your ass
Gm
C
Verse 4
Yes, this is the one Rhythm X
who think you nice
But I know you ain't got shit
dumb doo- doo whack shit
But you step in boy,
and you get played like a toy
How did you like the song?
TunerE A D G B E
ChordsEm Gm C C#m C#...
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