Own the world

Own the world madadaling guitar chords ni Tassho Pearce

N/A•
Gitara
Pag-tune

E A D G B E

Capo

Fret 3

Capo

I-transpose

0

Capo

  • D

  • Dm

  • Am

  • A

  • D

  • Dm

  • Am

  • A

    • Verse 1
    D
    Dm

    Yo E -Merce,
    Am

    these motherfuckers are looking at us sideways
    Dm

    Like we confiscating their bitches panties
    Am
    A

    I rain on the crowd
    Am

    bringing lightning and hail

    Crucified to the mic with
    Dm

    a spike and a nail

    Why I'm shine so bright?

    I gotta write it in braille
    D

    Kill em, seize till I'm quarter,

    spend my life in a jail
    A

    Use the budget for my record,

    that's the price of the bail
    Am

    Cops hire a psychic

    to spot a light in the trail
    Dm

    Of dead bodies I leave all

    sliced and impaled

    Like a rat trap,

    capturing you mice by the tail
    Am
    A

    Got you nervous and biting your nails,
    Am
    A

    cause you're frightened to fail
    Am

    Computer nerds,
    A
    Dm

    ordering your mics through the mail
    D
    Dm

    Thinking you're the fattest cats

    with immaculate tracks

    And abstract raps,
    D

    typing battle raps on Apple Macs
    Am

    Step off,
    A

    before I blow your motherfucking head off
    Am

    Grab Superman by the
    Dm

    chest and rip the S off

    You saw, he couldn't stand

    the pressure from the liftoff

    A bitch with a mic,

    always trying to get me pissed
    Am

    So we're the illest in the game,

    where they're killing these

    lames

    They're drilling their dames,

    teaching them the feeling of pain
    Dm

    Battle your crew, take home your girl
    D

    Ain't no use tellin' us

    we don't own the world
    Am

    Yeah, I'm so sick with
    A

    this flow so infinite
    Am

    It's a whole different approach
    Dm

    for those listenin'

    I throw sentences at foes who so sensitive

    Plus I know when to just

    roll with the momentum
    Am
    A

    I spit a foul flow, voice hoarse like a dalgo
    Am

    Turn rappers to alpo,
    Dm

    you and your palo

    Rallyin' your troops,

    call up your whole battalion

    The situation could get hairier

    than ten Italians
    Am

    Tellin' my mercies back again,
    A

    and he's more heated
    Am

    Mission aborted like fetus,
    Dm

    no one could foresee it

    I'm even hot as a 104 fever,
    D

    bitch, please

    I'm ill as the leader of North Korea
    A

    My middle finger is stiffer
    Dm
    A

    than rigor mortis
    Am

    Sick as a bronco fan
    A
    Dm

    when they trade away Clinton borders
    D
    Dm

    Crumbs can hate in my face,

    they ain't say shit

    That's basically gay as Clay
    D

    Aiken and K -Swiss
    Am

    So the illest in the game,

    with the killin' these lames

    The drillin' they dames,

    teachin' them the feelin' of pain
    Dm

    Battle your crew, take home your girl
    D

    Ain't no use tellin' us

    we don't own the world
    Dm
    Am

    I'm so charged,
    Dm

    nothin' matters to me
    Am
    A

    I'ma get charged for battery
    Dm

    with a bag of batteries
    D
    Dm

    I'm eons beyond, peons get peed on
    D

    Y 'all rock neon, Tybo to Celine Dion
    A
    Dm

    You're just a bitch talkin' shit
    A

    on your mom's computer
    Am

    I'll hit your chick in more positions
    Dm

    than Kama Sutra

    No tellin' what a bird of

    sparrow will do

    For some demigods,

    I'll flip the bird of peril
    Am

    Got your bitch blowin'

    dick till her knees hurt
    A
    Am

    An swerin' the door, rockin' apathy

    in e -merced t -shirts
    D

    We whole baggin' bag him,
    Dm

    got him beggin' for the magnums
    D

    And braggin' to all their friends

    how intense the orgasm
    Am

    Made him spasm,
    A

    revert the stage of Cro -Magnon

    Fuck a preppy bitch in the
    Dm

    back of a Volkswagen
    D

    It's all part of the plot,
    A
    D

    fuck a heart in the drop

    Till the car shocks pop

    with the harder we rock
    Am

    So whether illest in the game,

    whether killin' these lames

    Or drillin' they dames,

    teachin' them the feelin' of pain
    D

    Battle your crew, take home your girl

    Ain't no use tellin' us

    we don't own the world
    Am
    A

    This has been a journey
    Am
    A

    Inside your girl's mouth
    Dm

    You better believe that
    D

    We're little sideways motherfuckers
    Dm
    D

    Don't you understand who this is?

    Apathy, emerse
    A

    Yeah, y 'all know how we do

    Know what I'm H -I -State to CT
    D

    It's that raw material

    Highly volatile
    D

    These artists are susceptible
    A

    to blow the fuck up
    Outro 1
    A


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