West Coast Most chords by Mr. Criminal
Verse 1
Am
The number one independent later,
killing them in the game
Independent
You're now tuned in to the number one
Latin rap artist
Dm
in the Chicago Rap Industry
Am
Haha
Number one on the billboard
Dm
Number one on the streets
Am
And number one with the sales
Haha
Em
Who the fuck you think
Am
you talking to?
Who the fuck you think you talking to?
G
You done fucked up homie,
Am
now the talk is through
The streets fuck with real G's,
they don't fuck with you
G
Any streets, any avenue,
Am
they bumpin' who?
That Mr. Criminal shit,
number one,
they feelin' we trick bossin'
Dm
for our bosses
Boost me on some silly shit,
Am
that Young Brown and Dangerous album,
homie
This really hits, economy crash,
Em
who's still lining up in this recession,
bitch?
Am
H's up worldwide,
thank you for the purchase
Boost me on some bitches,
G
Am
so I can't lay ass on purpose
What happened to the days of real tracks
and real rappers?
Internet came,
G
Am
flooded the game and killed it
All these MySpace rappers
came out overnight
Dm
Beggin' for a deal from the label,
pathetic, right?
Am
No skills havin',
motherfuckers get no credit like
Em
So they get on Twitter talkin' shit,
jealous every night
Am
What kind of sideways bitch
shit is that?
Motherfuckers turnin' fatal,
G
Am
tryna kick up with the cat
But these half -ass bitch,
ruddery rappers get no deffin' now
G
All of a sudden they bosses come,
Am
what kind of shit is that?
Fools couldn't hang with that G shit,
no shows right
Now you see them rockin'
Dm
skinny jeans and mohawk
Am
Other fools fell off the gang,
no love lost
Plucked out the gang
G
like the eyebrows,
no love lost
Am
I'm from the home of the gang,
bangin' gunshots
Fools be on some candy shit,
G
Am
like bubblegum drops
Goes water down, they get no love,
not from the ground
They got no fans locally,
G
Am
mines worldwide all around
Over this etho, the flows I spit is lethal
Dm
Fuck a sequel, if you trip,
I'll put you in the ground
Am
Beneath you, I'm sick
with it, like explicit
And triple X, rapper,
Em
producer, and CEO
G
I'm a triple threat,
Am
these fools ain't ready for war
So don't even test,
G
homies from Nevada back my place
Am
So come see me, yes,
I'm west side it like Tupac
G
California love comin' out of the rooftop
Am
And I just might be one of the sickest
latins on the microphone
Dm
Fools really need to leave the mic alone
Am
My homies tell me, Mr. Criminal,
dawg, you're killin' them hoes
Almost satisfied, but not quite yet
Em
G
There's still a hope that
Am
needs to be built
Fuck it, it's a cheap thrill
To hit the gang every year
G
Am
and give the rest a pre -fill
I gotta tell them the truth,
if not the streets will
G
I guess that's why the wack -ass shit
Am
is livin' weak still
West Coast Most
Mr. Criminal
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