Susi: G# minor•
Verse 1
G#m
D#
Yeah,
D#
G#m
Yeah miraculous, the arson ists
Verse 2
Yo, kicked down the door on the spot,
260
2L, I heard they had O's for sale
money drive a burgundy whip
Keep it low, faded licenses plates
Where's the cat from,
think he's from New Jerusalem
Pretty Rick did his thing for him,
but he was using him
D#
Power sun, jungle, physical,
you know the God
He go with Tim,
the one who called Lover of God
I know the natural law now
It's time to get the God U
and blow like mines
D#
But on the low I heard he got
born original sin
Back in a drive- through Kentucky
We got to get him Dunn,
aliens is snatching our bread
U.F.O.'s moving in with bigger
plans than Fed, yo
door get the scope
He's not home,
he took Ishmael to Park Slope
G#m
There go the the dreads yo, swindle
two bags of that stuff
That get you crashed out had
you laid out like bums
D#
Peace Kiana, what's up with
your girlfriend Wanda
She drive a green Honda,
G#m
with legs like Jane Fonda
I just left her,
she took Rashaan to Pathmark then
Jetted to Canal to get
her man some Clarks
D#
She said be back in ninety minutes,
Ghostface God forbid
She say, peace to W,
G#m
who's watching the kids?
Verse 3
Two hours later,
scheming like De Niro in Casino
Son better have more coke
Keana ain't telling no lies,
last year she did a sting and a half
And Tymeek bought her a aircraft
G#m
But anyway, yo, Daddy- O home,
we need the shotties nidow
When we get back, throw you a bit out
D#
Later that night, stay mesmerized yo
Go get the green 5, meet you on
G#m
the corner of Mar riott
You ready,
you got the E&J and the machete?
We going upstairs,
I hope one nigga is empty
D#
We walked in, both of us,
looked like terrorists
Masks on, second floor,
Dunn yo, I handle this
the whole shit looked graphical
Natural, fucking a white bitch, actual
D#
Fiends chanting, "Do your thing Chef,
handle it"
I shot him in the neck,
it ricocheted and hit Carolyn
G#m
Ran to the back analyzing,
much disguising
Surprise we coming and
their eyes were tranquilized
D#
And bugging, throwing her twin
cousins at his nugget, fuck it
G#m
Meet shottie waddy slug body hobby
Where the drugs,
where the ounces you be bouncing
Fake cats announcing on the block,
you lounging
D#
Where the blow at, I ain't got shit,
stop fronting
(Yo Chef, throw the joint in his
mouth, money'll start stunting
G#m
Bitch, show that bit,
before I push your wig back
Chef stop waving that,
show him where the paper at)
you know the God he need a salary
Put down the pipe here's two
tickets to a coke gallery
G#m
It's in the kitchen in the ceiling
(Baby girl kept squealing
Only found a white block
of cheese from New Zealand
D#
Oh shit! Yo, yo where that shit at yo?
G#m
Yo Chef, where that shit? What?)
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