Kunci Gitar Mr. 17.5
Young Jeezy
Young Jeezy

N/A
Kunci: D minor
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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(Ay, ay, ay, ay)
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New shoes on the range rover, good
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one man (vroom)
Motherfuckers acting like
I ain't supposed to shine
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I ain't the one,
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definitely not the two (nope)
One in the chamber when
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we aiming at you
The young Bob Barker,
the price is right
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If you C.O.D. then you
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could get them tonight
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Put the fish scale on the scale
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If Roy went postal,
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all he do is check mail (ha ha)
Low key, under the radar
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Triple black 'Vet, yeah I call it the stealth
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No currency machine,
I could count it myself
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Almost done,
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another quarter million in ones
Thunder storm in the body- tap,
look what I've done
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Chump change,
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I make it rain for fun (whats up)
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Snow man, get cha' hands up high
Verse 2
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It's ya' boy, Mr. 17- 5
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I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen,
back to the pots
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Snow man, get cha' hands up high
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It's ya' boy, Mr. 17- 5
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I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen,
Verse 3
back to the pots
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I get them bars out of the back
of my mind (that's how)
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I reminisce like Mary J
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Even in the drought, the boy kept that yay
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100 percent served, Snowman's word
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You can play my thug and my clientele
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(why)
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I'm addicted to that new car smell
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White cookies in a plastic bag
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New shoes on the coupe
with the paper tag
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Whole life flash right before your eyes
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See the state troopers and get butterflies
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Got a thing for them Heckler and Koches
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A minute 14 and Rolex watches
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Somewhere in the back
of my secret deranged brain
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I get a rush when I tote that 'cane
Get money, Nigga fuck them haters
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All we fear is the discovery and
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inditement papers (whats up)
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Snow man, get cha' hands up high
Verse 4
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It's ya' boy, Mr. 17- 5
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I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen,
back to the pots
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Snow man, get cha' hands up high
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It's ya' boy, Mr. 17- 5
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I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen,
back to the pots
Verse 5
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I'm a grown ass man,
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I stand on my own two
200,000 cash,
yeah, I'm buying my own team
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Right to your front door,
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operation so sweet
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I like little dude who keeps
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his money so neat
But I still bury a nigga
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Put The Mask on, Jim Carey a
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nigga (Blaou)
Swede ends in the Chevy,
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got me feelin' awkward
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Careful with the sweets,
don't burn my seats
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You could live your whole
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life and not come close
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Guess that's why these
rap niggas take notes
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Recite my adlibs, borrow my quotes
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Make me I hop a nigga,
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serve them with the toast
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Next, they be dressing like me
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But back in '93, they wasn't
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stressing like me (whats up)
Verse 6
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Snow man, get cha' hands up high
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It's ya' boy, Mr. 17- 5
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I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen,
back to the pots
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Snow man, get cha' hands up high
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It's ya' boy, Mr. 17- 5
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I take it back to the block, back to the kitchen,
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back to the pots
Outro 1
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