Vice chords by Melle mel
Verse 1
D
Vice
You have the right to remain silent
Anything you say can and will be used
F
C
against you in a court of law
D
You have the right for an attorney
If you do not, or cannot afford an attorney
An attorney will be appointed to
Verse 2
you, you are now under arrest
D
Crime, it pays real nice
But what you really didn't
know that crime pays twice
It pays once in money, twice in years
C
In the jail cell, tryin to hide your tears
D
And the trip bad,
cause you tried to get rich
In the graveyards, or in the shallow ditch
It's money or time so make
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Verse 3
up your mind
D
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice
Vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Verse 4
D
Fraud, the girl he adored
Turned out to be another dirty old broad
Took all the money, told all the lies
I heard she even, slept with other guys
C
D
Nothing she wouldn't
do for a dollar or two
But every lie she told he knew to be true
He loves his honey, but she loved money
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Talk about ya- yo, uh,
it's everywhere you go
They said in Miami it'll never snow
Now it's snow in the palm trees,
snow on the sand
It snows all day,
C
for sixty dollars a gram
D
Now they're strung out and high,
hung out to dry
The air that they breathe
the food that they buy
They think that they can fly,
but that's a white lie
Verse 5
D
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice
Vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Verse 6
D
The mob, a full time job
Known to extort and steal or rob
Started as a hitman, lookin for wealth
And now he's the boss
workin' for his self
For all the blood money
that he did earn
It made him take lives with
no concern
But soon he would learn
that next is his turn
Verse 7
D
Prostitution, it's a low down shame
How any girl,
would want to play that game
From pillow, to post, a sidewalk host
C
But the lady's got a condo out on the coast
D
She thought that the hole, was
better than gold
Now she worked on her back
'til she got too old
Layin' down on the job,
has made her a slob, uh
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
It's a stickup, so throw your
hands in the air
And don't, ah put 'em down,
keep 'em way up there
Just let me your wallet empty
all your pockets
Got a itchy trigger finger
and I'm gonna cock it
My eyes got wide as they pulled away
I said, 'Who are you the
cops?' He began to say
'No I'm Clint Eastwood, make my day,
Verse 8
get in the car!'
D
Homicide is on the rise,
and it's no surprise
D
The bums are in the alleyways
D
tryin to take lives
F
People burglarize then suicidal criminals
D
are never idle
F
Court procedures at your leisure
D
eight finger Visas circle seizures
Con man fencer, arson is a trip
Take all the fingerprints,
and give him the book
And then hope that the judge
don't let him off the hook, uh!
Verse 9
F
D
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
Vice
C
D
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice, vice
Vice, vice, vice, vice, vice,
D
vice vice, vice vice, vice, vice
Vice
Melle mel
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