Key: A minor•
Verse 1
Am
C
Am
As the life cycle
F
Am
goes on goes on
And you learn to hold on (hold on)
To things like the mic the mic
And you learn to appreciate who is
Verse 2
C
Am
Time at shashuma, too much drama,
blind behind the rumor
Time at shashuma, no time
Am
As soon as one of ya' men's dead in Hempstead,
Sooner the better,
Keep your leather,
we coming through the brutal weather
We ready to do whatever,
Verse 3
(You know it like a poet, my brother)
C
F
C
(Hey, Gunn you wit it?) Whatever
Verse 4
C
Am
To bust a shell off, to dick-
riders: "Get the hell off"
Made a call to a client,
C
Am
I tell off the bat,
C
Am
from science to pure facts
'til they last two tracks
The tall- tale, how he escape from
Verse 5
out the depths of hell
like a soldier die
Holding a swollen eye, drinking
Olde Gold
po patrol the beach
Blowing my high, rolling by, when Gunn die
He gon' try to preach the streets
then go to the sky
Verse 6
Am
F
This one etched in stone,
the chisel with the paper up
C
F
I need a cut: a taper- up, edge- up
Am
F
Niggas can't measure up,
I'm here to get the treasure up
Verse 7
F
Am
Stands up and hold 'em high, do or die
He got heat, no surprise,
stop the beat, close your eyes
Got the weed, rolling lah
C
Am
Not sweet, so no demise,
all the guys drops seeds so multiply
Verse 8
C
Am
but can't bleed me
my sister, but can't bleed me
Am
F
A OG, ghetto misery,
C
Am
bled my mother, my father, but can't bleed
Verse 9
C
Am
Me sci- fly, whole style stuck up
Used to talk to myself,
I told him, "Shut the fuck up!"
cause it's about to be rough
C
Am
He said, "Keep talking that shit,
you 'bout to be snuffed"
C
Am
Then we squashed it, I let
em know: "Watch it
We only met a time to join
Gosh, it feels great just
For a pussy nigga face to hit the
Verse 10
dance floor
crack rock, what?
Now it's all good business,
and so this bitch is locked up
Baby- face, and hey can you brand you,
brand new machete
Damn, I just shook your hand
and can't stand you already
Can't stand you, understand you deadly
F
Am
But my hammer's like a band, my man,
F
Am
it's Brand New and Heavy
Yo' Doom, you ready?
(Yeah! Yo' Gunn,
Verse 11
I wrote this rhyme on my born- day
Remind me of the same style I flipped
F
on "Hey!"
Yikes! Who can fuck with the likes
and spikes mic's
Metal grill, with many styles, better still
C
F
Am
Feel like number 26 on a roulette wheel
Verse 12
runners whose old- timers
C
Am
Shorty in the all black,
she think she all that
I called her, she said, "Don't call back!"
She called me, now what
you call that?
Let's go back, I sold crack
Hold gats, smoke that, drink that,
toke that
Fuck! Where that ho at? Where
Verse 13
that dough at?
C
Am
C
Suffering succotash! This hooker broke
Am
C
into his last buck of cash
Am
C
Am
He love her, motherfuck her ass
C
Am
My agenda up in the basement
Am
F
Is unbeknownst to you who
maricon, like to know what you staring at?
C
F
An invisible cat,
who pull off a disappearing act
C
F
Raised by a pack a wild
F
C
Front? I'mma be back! (Like brothers
(Surrounded by a bunch a bad
bitches like Sweetback)
F
F
Am
C
Am
C
Like niggas in the streets
Am
F
C
F
C
F
C
F
Outro 1
act (streets act!)
C
F
C
F
C
F
Am
F
C
F
C
Am
C
F
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsAm C F
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