Tom: B
Introdução:
Bb
What's good good?
F
And what's good evil?
C
And what's good gangstas?
Dm
And what's good people?
Bb F
And whys God's phone die every time that I call on Him?
C Dm
If his son had a Twitter wonder if I would follow him
Bb F
Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon
C Dm
Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum
Bb F
Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him
C Dm
Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of em
Bb F
I slurped too many pain-kills, downing em off a lot
C Dm
I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock
Bb
Ya'know I mean?
F
I got the Chicago Blues
C Dm
We invented rock before the Stones got through
Bb F
We just aiming back cause the cops shot you
C Dm
Buck buck bang bang, yelling "Fuck Fox News!"
Bb F
Booyaka buckle up, mothafuck ops too
C Dm
Ain't no knuckling up em young cause it just not cool
G Bm
Nice to see you Father New Year
C G
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
G Bm
Shooting death with weighted dice
C G
And hitting stains on birthday candles
G Bm
I know somebody, somebody loves my ass
C G
Cause they help me beat my demons ass
G C Am
Everybody's somebody's everything
G
I know you right
G C
Nobody's nothing
G
That's right
x3
Bb F
I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white
C Dm
But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white
Bb
And both my parents was black
F
But they saw it fit that I talk right
C
With my drawers hid but
Dm
My hard head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite
Bb F
But gravity had me up in a submission hold
C Dm
Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed
Bb F
In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole
C
And two missing toes
Dm
But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe
G Bm
Nice to see you Father New Year
C G
Middle finger Uncle Samuel
G Bm
Shooting death with weighted dice
C G
And hitting stains on birthday candles
G Bm
I know somebody, somebody loves my ass
C G
Cause they help me beat my demons ass
verse 3
Bb F
Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over
C Dm
The type to love from a distance not the type that told her
Bb F
Spent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over
C Dm
With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors
Bb
Coppers and quotas
F
Hold ya head like 2Pac had taught
C
Obviously they are on a come up
Dm
With better chances tobogganing in the fucking summer
Bb F
Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones
C
All odds against we tryna get lucky
Dm
Doper than Nucky
Bb F
You're ending happy that's only a tuggy
Dm C
Like Satan masturbating shit come hot
Bb
But y'all still love me ugh
F
How father time a deadbeat
C
Maybe I'm adopted
Dm
That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless
G C Am
Everybody's somebody's everything
G
I know you right
G C
Nobody's nothing
G
That's right
x3