Talking To My Gangsters chords by Mr. Criminal
Intro 1
Em
E
Em
D
C
Em
E
Em
Am
Em
E
And we still bangin' on the mother
Verse 1
Em
fuckin' streets
E
Em
of the Southern Califas
C
E
Em
Am
G
E
C
E
Am
G
Talkin'
Em
to my motherfuckin' gangstas,
where you at?
E
Em
C
Rollin' around in a Cadillac,
all black strap
Em
E
Em
Yeah, I'm talkin' to my Gs,
Am
not no motherfuckin' pretty
B
boy wannabes
Em
E
Worldwide, we beatin', makes me jeez
Em
We done bought those other
C
rappers wanna be
Em
E
All you motherfuckin' haters R .I .P
Am
G
H's up in the sky, it's all I see
E
Mr. Criminal gives a fuck
Em
about you lames
E
Em
Haters come and go, but fuck it,
C
charge it to the gang
Em
E
I make your money different ways,
you do the same
Am
Right before you crash,
G
you better stay up out my lane
Em
E
When they hear my flow,
they say I'm dope like cocaine
Em
Blow your fuckin' head off
C
with a gaze like Cobain
Em
E
I hear these fools
Em
dissin' with no names
Am
D
But nobody listens, their flows lame
E
Em
Ain't nobody listen to that
wack -ass shit,
E
C
these motherfuckers be droppin'
E
Excuse me,
Am
I mean these motherfuckers be floppin'
G
Em
E
Ha ha ha, yeah
If it ain't HPG,
C
E
it ain't me Mr. Criminal
Am
Goddang, some of these punks true
G
Em
E
Fuck the British B -b -b -b -buck,
Em
that's the sound from the Glock
E
C
Holla, point, tiff, make it loud,
that's hard stock
Em
E
Mr. Criminal,
Em
what you hearin' on your block?
Am
Bm
Billboards every year, here at Nonstop
Em
E
Em
High power motherfuckin' kingpins
E
Em
C
See your ship slowly fuckin' sinkin'
Em
E
All my moves hatin', steady peepin'
Em
Am
Catch you creepin', bitches,
you sweet deepin'
G
Em
E
Up high by a smock lock,
Em
make your fuckin' heart stop
C
Fuck all you lies, bust no one in shots
E
We the riders that you envy and follow
Am
Tryna call my phone,
G
askin' me for a bottle?
E
Em
Childin', dawg, I'm hotter than Thamales
E
Em
I been in the driver's seat,
C
holdin' the Yaris
E
Am
Em
E
Em
E
C
Hotter than the motherfuckin' streets
E
Em
Am
Em
G
E
Em
E
C
E
Asus4
Am
G
Em
E
I'm a sick breed,
comin' slicker than a six -speed
Em
Haters want a trip,
C
they come and get me
Em
E
Motherfuckers wanna trip,
they come against me
Em
Am
I ain't trippin',
G
motherfuckers lookin' wimpy
B
Em
Simply, I'm tempty
E
Motherfuckers wanna run up
Em
C
Hollow points and leave ya done up
E
With your brains leaking off
your fuckin' back
Em
Am
Hollow points leave
G
you motherfuckers takin' a nap
Em
E
Make you have bad dreams
like a flashback
Em
Jumpin' on steelos like
C
a fuckin' snapback
E
I'm so big in the game,
they call me Sasquatch
Am
Big foot, stomp your door,
G
make your neck crack
Em
E
Bottles actin' like some bitches,
that's it, what's that?
Em
I swear these bottles
C
got some pussies under nut sacks
E
Whore, you tryna disagree with her?
Watch me bust back
Am
Certified Southside platinum,
G
Em
you can't touch that
E
Em
E
You motherfuckers
Em
can't touch that shit
E
Em
C
E
with a ten -foot pole, homie
Am
Not even if your punk -ass life's
G
depending on you
Em
E
You're still bringing
C
E
that raw shit
Em
Am
Westside til I die, huh,
G
E
Em
yeah
E
C
E
Mr. Criminal,
Am
it was meant to be.
G
Em
E
Em
E
C
Talking To My Gangsters
Mr. Criminal
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