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