Kunci: D minor
Intro 1
C#m
D
Eaug
G#
C#m
D
Eaug
G#
Verse 1
C#m
I strive to be humble,
lest I stumble,
D
never sold a jumbo,
Eaug
or cop chicken wings
G#
C#m
with mumbo sauce,
Tyson is a foul holocaust,
D
G#
Hitler gash your whole head up with poultry, I'm fed up
C#m
Ig nore Cordon Bleu, stand up,
D
get up, lunch for your knife
G#
C#m
Don't forget your pot holders
D
Hot shit, what? These old things?
G#
About to throw them away
C#m
With the gold rings
that make them don't fit like OJ
D
G#
Usually I take them off with oil
C#m
or ole MC's
as crabs in a barrel past the old bay
D
Eaug
G#
Hot as hell and it's a cold day in it
C#m
Working on a way that we
can roll away tinnit
D
Eaug
Some say the price of holding heat
G#
is often too high
C#m
You either be in a coffin
or you be the new guy
D
G#
The one that's too fly to eat chupai
C#m
Never too busy when
D
it comes down to you and I
Eaug
G#
A lot of niggas wish to die
C#m
They need to hold their horses,
it's bigger fish to fry
D
G#
You're on the list, if not,
pick a number spot
C#m
Ten and a half
D
Timbs is made to kick your bumper climb
G#
C#m
I coulda had a V8, F -150 quad cab,
but I'll be straight
D
Money comes and goes
G#
like that two -bit
C#m
Hustle that night to try to rush me
Dwight passed the dutchie
D
So I could calm down
G#
so they don't get it twisted
C#m
Take it from the fireside
and won't get enlisted
D
C#m
Got it, what happened? Oh, it's not lit
These metal fingers be holdin' hot shit
D
When I was four, I penned
G#
God was born in New York
C#m
Back in 77, still got Nan in the crescent
D
The effervescence of God's
Eaug
presence is thick
G#
C#m
Un like vapor, esterol, extra roll,
word to the baker
D
Peace to the hard -workin'
G#
gingerbread makers
C#m
Looked up and down, said,
hmm, too much make -up
D
G#
Poor music tastes ten years from
being grown -up
C#m
Rappers don't blow up, heads do
Aw, shit
D
My name is Dwight Spitz,
G#
I'm a sonic addict
C#m
I used to think it was
merely a nagging habit
G#
Born under a bad sign
C#m
I'm serious about this curse of mine
I strive to flip it in the fine wine
D
Barely born a virgin is
Eaug
G#
what the stars said
C#m
Black, not white, red all over,
though, like Elmo
D
G#
28 years have passed,
I feel I'm peaking
C#m
I make music every weekend
D
G#
It's a chore, a fact of life
C#m
A labor of love, I get mad love
but I detest the labor
D
And it's wages, you know death
Eaug
G#
C#m
I'm serving life from this gift of God
D
Don't forget your potholders,
my niggas
Eaug
G#
C#m
Mojito
D
Mojito
G#
C#m
D
Mojito
Eaug
G#
C#m
D
Eaug
G#
C#m
D
Eaug
G#
C#m
D
Eaug
G#
D
Eaug
G#
C#m
D
Background music playing.
Eaug
G#
C#m
A
short time later.
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