The What Chords

Tuning: Standard (E A D G B E) Produced by Easy Mo Bee: Verse 1: C Am I used to get feels on a bitch F G C Now I throw shields on the dick to stop me from that HIV shit Am And niggas know they soft like a Twinkie filling F G Playing the villain, prepare for this rap killing C Am F Biggie Smalls is the illest, your style is played out G Like Arnold on that, "What you talking 'bout, Willis?" C Am The thrill is gone, the Black Frank White F G Is here to excite and throw dick to dykes C Am F Bitches I like 'em brainless, guns I like 'em stainless steel G I want the fucking Fortune like the Wheel C Am I squeeze gats 'til my clips is empty F G Don't tempt me, you don't want to fuck with the M-E...

Verse 2: ...T-H-O-D Man, here I am C Am I'll be damned if this ain't some shit F G Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit C Am F It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet-black ninja G Coming where you rest at, surrender C Am Step inside the ring, you's the number one contender F G Looking cold-booty like your pussy in December C Am Nigga, stop bitching, button up your lip and F G From Method all you getting is a can of ass-whipping C Am F Hey, I'll be kicking you son, you doing all the yapping G Acting as if it can't happen C Am Your frontin' got me mad enough to touch something F G Yo, I'm from Shaolin Island and ain't afraid to bust something C Am So what you want nigga? You won't nigga F G I got a 6-shooter and a horse named Trigger C Am It's real, '94 rugged-raw F G Kickin' down your goddamn door And it goes a little something like this Chorus 1: C Am Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit F G Everything you get you gotta work hard for it C Am (Honeys shake your hips) You don't stop F G (And niggas pack the clips) Keep on, bitch Verse 3: C Am Verse two, coming with that Olde E brew F G Meth-tical, putting niggas back in ICU C Am I'm lifted, troop, you can bring your wack-ass crew F G I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue C Am Huh, no question, I be coming down and shit F G Yo I gets rugged as a motherfucking carpet get C Am F And niggas love it, not in the physical form but in the mental G I spark and they cells get warm C Am I'm not a gentleman, I'm a Method Man F G Baby accept it, utmost respect it, and C Am (Assume the position) Stop look and listen F G I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens, bitch Verse 4: C Am Welcome to my center, honeys feel it deep in they placenta F G Cold as the pole in the winter C Am Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed F And when my MAC unloads G I'm guaranteed another video C Am Ready to die, why I act that way? F G Pop duke left mom duke, the faggot took the back way C Am So instead of making hoes suck my dick up F G C I used to do stick-ups, 'cause hoes is irritating like the hiccups Am Excuse me, flows just grow through me F G Like trees to branches, cliffs to avalanches C Am F It's the praying mantis, deep like the mind of Farrakhan G A motherfucking rap phenomenon, plus C Am (I got more Glocks and TECs than you) F G I make it hot, (niggas won't even stand next to you) C Am F Nigga touch me you better bust me three times in the head G Or motherfucker's dead, you thought so Chorus: C Am Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit F G And everything you get you gotta work hard for it C Am (Honeys shake your hips) You don't stop F G (And niggas pack the clips) Keep on, bitch C Am Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit F G Everything you get you gotta work hard for it C Am (Honeys shake your hips) You don't stop F G (And niggas pack the clips) Keep on, bitch Outro: N.C. Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique in full effect (Yeah, what the fuck you want, nigga?) N.C. Ah, yeah, hell yeah (Biggie Smalls and Meth-tical) N.C. Bedford–Stuyvesant the livest one (9-4 coming at you raw) N.C. My borough is thorough (Shaolin Island, yeah) Recognize (Yeah)