Intro
Cm Ab Gm
[Chorus 1]
Cm
Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day, I admit it
Ab Gm
I don't take back what I say, if I said it then I meant it
Cm
All my life I want a Grammy, but I'll prolly never get it
Ab Gm
I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon (Yah I said it)
Cm
Fuck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the law, cut the rules
Ab Gm
I'm about to risk it all, I ain't got too much to lose
Gm Cm
Y'all been eatin' long enough, it's my turn to cut the food
Ab Gm
Pass the plate! Where my drink? This my day, lucky you
Gm
Fuck you too, woo!
[Chorus 2]
Cm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move
Ab Gm
Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice
Cm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot
Ab Gm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice
[Verse 1]
Cm
Back on my bullshit, my back to the wall
Cm
Turn my back on you, all of you finished
Ab
Back to these bullets, it's back to the job
Gm
Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'
Cm
Back on my hood shit, it's back to the pushin'
Cm
These packs and I'm actually pumpin'
Ab
Can't fuck with you rappers, you practically suckin'
Gm
You mighta went platinum but that don't mean nothin'
Cm
I'm actually buzzin' this time
Cm
Straight out the kitchen, I told 'em the oven is mine
Ab
I do not fuck with you guys
Gm
If I don't kill you, just know you gon' suffer this time
Cm
I ain't no gangster but I got some bangers
Cm
Some chains and some blades and a couple of knives
Ab
Choppers and jammies, a partridge, a pear tree
Gm
My twelve days of Christmas was nothin' but lies (Ayy)
Cm
I run at you hard like a sumo (Sumo)
Cm
They say I talk like a chulo (Chulo)
Ab
I live in Mars, I'm not Bruno (Woo)
Gm
Bitch I'm a dog, call me "Cujo" (Rah)
Cm
You play your cards, I reverse on you all
And I might just draw 4 like a Uno (Bup)
Ab Gm
Callate boca mejor, maricon, little puto, and all of you culo (Joyner)
Cm
They've invented a level up in the ghetto to get old
Cm
Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now
Ab
Shit get relevant 'til the beef die down
Gm
In truth a nigga just really want me tied down
Cm
I've been alone and I never needed nobody
Cm
Just only me and my shotty, I'll tell these niggas to lie down
Ab
Keep all the money, I never wanted the lifestyle
Gm
I just pray to God that my son'll be alright now
Cm
I said ain't no love for the other side
Cm
Or anyone who ever want smoke (Joyner)
Ab Gm
When I die I'm goin' out as a underdog who never lost hope (Yeah)
Cm
You in the wrong cab down the wrong path
Nigga, wrong way, wrong road (Woo, woo)
Ab
Snakes in the grass tryna slither fast
Gm
I just bought a fuckin' lawn mower (Vroom!)
[Chorus 1]
Cm
I done said a lotta things in my day, I admit it
Ab Gm
This is payback in a way, I regret it that I did it
Ab
I done won a couple Grammys, but I sold my soul to get 'em
Gm
Wasn't in it for the trophies, just the fuckin' recognition
Fuck's the difference?
G
I'm that cracker, bend the law, fuck the rules
G
Man I used to risk it all, now I got too much to lose
G
I've been eatin' long enough, man my stomach should be full
G
I just ate, licked the plate, my buffet, lucky me
G
Fuck you think? (Woo!)
[Verse 2]
Cm
I got a couple of mansions
Ab
Still I don't have any manners
Cm
You got a couple of ghost writers
Ab
But to these kids it don't actually matter
Cm
They're askin' me, "What the fuck happened to hip-hop?"
Ab
I said, "I don't have any answers."
Cm
'Cause I took an L when I dropped my last album
Ab
It hurt me like hell but I'm back on these rappers
Cm
And actually comin' from humble beginnings
Ab
I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning
Cm
I wish I could say, "What a wonderful feeling!"
Ab
"We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling!"
Cm
But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' ability
To even stick to a subject, it's killin' me
Ab
The inability to pen humility
Ab
Ha-ta-ta ba-ta-ta, why don't we make a bunch of
Cm
Fuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em?
Ab
Fuck it, I'm goin' for the jugular
Cm
Shit is a circus, you clowns that are comin' up
Ab
Don't give an ounce of a motherfuck
Cm
About the ones that were here before you that made rap
Ab
Let's recap, way back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks
Ab
ADAT's, where the A Raps and Kanes at?
Cm
We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back
Cm Ab
'Cause half of these rappers have brain damage
Ab
All the lean rappin', face tats, syruped out like tree sap
Ab
I don't hate trap, and I don't wanna seem mad
Ab
But in fact, where the old me at? The same cat
Ab
That would take that feedback and aim back, I need that
G
But I think it's inevitable
G
They know what button to press or what lever to pull
G
To get me to snap though (Lil' bitch)
G
And if I pay it attention I'm probably makin' it bigger
Cm
But you've been takin' ya dicks in the fuckin' back, ho (Get it?)
Cm
On the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'
Cm
Everything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits
Cm
I'm asleep at the wheel again
Cm
As I peak into thinkin' about an evil intent
Cm
Of another beat I'ma kill again
Cm
'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again
Cm
Even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin
Cm
It better be at least 70 to 300 milligram
Cm
And I might as well 'cause I'ma end up bein' a villain again
Cm
Levels to this shit, I got an elevator
Cm
You could never say to me I'm not a fuckin' record breaker
Cm
I sound like a broken record every time I break a record
Cm
Nobody could ever take away the legacy I made, I never cater
Cm
Motherfucker, now I got a right to be this way
Cm
I got spite inside my DNA
Cm
But I wrote 'til the wheels fall off,
Cm
I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy
G
It's the moment y'all been waitin' for
G
Like California wishin' rain to pour
G
In that drought, y'all been prayin' for
G
My downfall from the 8 Mile to the Southpaw
G
Still the same Marshall, that outlaw
G
That they say as a writer might've fell off
G
I'm back on that bull like the cowboy
[Chorus 3]
Cm
So y'all gotta move (Yeah),
Cm
y'all gotta move (Yeah), y'all gotta move
Ab G
Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice
Cm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot
Ab G
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice