Cifras
Mic Jack

Tono: F

Introducción: F#m    

F#m                                                                                                    C#m  
Niggas still ain't fuckin' with Hollywood Court
                                        D  
'Cause they fuckin' wit' ya boi
                                                     E  
like the Hollywood dough
F#m                                                                         C#m  
Everything big, no comin' up short
                                D                                                                              E  
Jack the buzzer beater up, all net, half court
  F#m                                                                              C#m  
The game winning shot, your name sayin', not
  D                                                                                         E  
That same skinny thot you got, she be in and out
F#m                                                                                                                 C#m  
She never spit it out either, we call her Poke-mouth
D                                                                                         E  
Big mouth bad, start to smash that ass
F#m                                                                                    C#m  
I build a bear before I build a bitch
D  
I take her to the mall and
                                                          E  
fill her with the sugar dick
F#m                                                                                         C#m  
With the same lips give a nigga sugar whits
                        D                                                                                            E  
Give me brain, so intelligent with plenty sense
                                        F#m  
I took her innocence, yeah she was turnt out
                                  C#m                                                                 D  
And by the time I gave her back she was burnt out
                             E                                                                                      F#m  
Like the tires on the Huracan, you ain't good Antwan
  F#m  
Or better yet, stay great, we stay puttin' on
F#m  
You're hotter than July (super hot)
  D                                      E         F#m  
Super colder than December (so cold)
  C#m                    D      E  
You got me dancin'
  F#m  
The dancefloor tells no lies
C#m            D                                         E      F#m  
Give them something to remember
C#m      D                      E  
You got me dancin'
Post-Chorus
F#m                                                                            D  
Please don't stop movin' your feet
  F#m                                                                         D  
While the music's hot on that ecstacy
                  F#m                                                                                      D  
We can dance all night, till we both get weak
             F#m                 D  
Come on, come on
Verse
F#m                                                            C#m  
Stayin' fresh that's the gameplan
                        D                                                              E  
Out the oven cause we never microwavin'
                  F#m                                                                                      C#m  
We break it up like the smile of Michael Strahan
                                D                                                                              E  
And keep shinin' like the glove on Michael J hand
                        F#m                                                                                         C#m  
I do not play man, sure I'll eat your ass up quick
                             D                                                                                         E  
I'm on that boss rap shit, they on that toss salad
             F#m                                                                         C#m  
Old chick, I sees ya nigga and I delete her
             D  
I used to have a bench
                                                                        E  
full of bitches but didn't need 'em
          F#m                                                                                            C#m  
But still fill arenas and killin' the coliseum
        D                                                                                    E  
ATLiens, they on top of ya human beings
  F#m                                                                                         C#m  
From the mothership, I'm on some other shit
  D                                                                                    E  
Lowkey like the blow soul back in '86
  F#m                                                                    C#m  
But we don't sell dope, we pimp ink pens
  D                                                                                         E  
To provoke the folks and keep 'em thinkin'
     F#m                                                                              C#m  
What is you drinkin', or better yet
                          D  
Do you really know the meaning of life
                                  E         F#m  
or are you sleeping
F#m                                                            C#m      D  
You're hotter than July (super hot)
                                          E              F#m  
Super colder than December (so cold)
C#m            D         E  
You got me dancin'
                F#m                                      C#m  
The dancefloor tells no lies
D                                            E            F#m  
Give them something to remember
C#m                 D              E  
You got me dancin'
F#m                                                            C#m      D  
You're hotter than July (super hot)
                                          E              F#m  
Super colder than December (so cold)
C#m            D         E  
You got me dancin'
                F#m                                      C#m  
The dancefloor tells no lies
D                                            E            F#m  
Give them something to remember
C#m                 D              E  
You got me dancin'
Post-Chorus
F#m                                         C#m  D  
Please don't stop movin'
                          E         F#m                 D    E  
your feet (you got me dancin')
                     F#m  
We can dance all night,
  C#m              D                              E  
till we both get weak, come on
F#m                              C#m  DE  
(You got me dancin')
Outro
F#m    C#m  D                      E                              F#m  C#m  D  
Morning, we don't stop till the morning
                                                             E  F#m  
We don't stop, keep it going
                                          C#m  D  
We gonna see it through
  D                                                         E  F#m  
And the rest is up to you