Fly Out 创作者:
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne

N/A1 浏览量
调:C minor
Verse 1
G#m
G#m
C#m
C#m
G#m
G#m
E
E
We here
G#m
G#m
C#m
C#m
G#m
G#m
I said we here
C#m
C#m
The back of Tha Carter
E
E
G#m
G#m
E
E
G#m
G#m
The back of Tha Carter...
C#m
C#m
E
E
G#m
G#m
C#m
C#m
G#m
G#m
Two... Ooooh
F#
F#
E
E
Yea... This here is... the end
C#m
C#m
of Tha Carter Two people
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
HEY! HaHa.Yea
Verse 2
F#
F#
I got the game on ball and chain I threw the
key in the train
I'm like the key in the truck
E
E
I spent a G on these frames,
D#
D#
though my vision is priceless
C#m
C#m
Seeing through you niggaz like
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
a fuckin psychic
Hearing through the grapevine,
niggaz wanna hate mine
F#
F#
Say my name and die in the daytime
E
E
You catch my drift,
D#
D#
man you better be Peyton
C#m
C#m
F#
F#
Boy the heats on,
G#m
G#m
they make a peace bond
I'm in this bitch,
throwing up the seventeenth sign
F#
F#
Straight frowns,
no daps, strapped three times
E
E
D#
D#
A Tec- 11, AK 47, one Beretta,
C#m
C#m
ready for whatever
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
Tell them pussy niggaz come together
Verse 3
Heavy wetter, nigga super soaker wetter, nigga
F#
F#
Six feet under flowers,
you ain't nothing but a petal nigga
E
E
I'm just a little nigga,
D#
D#
trying to be a civil nigga
C#m
C#m
Thirty years old,
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
shit that'll be a dif ferent nigga
Quit it Wayne, your Mom is listenin
F#
F#
But she ain't really trippin,
'cause the pots is pissed in
E
E
Them niggaz trippin,
D#
D#
C#m
C#m
until the shots whist ling'
Hear them bullets sizzle,
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
like a cobra at at tention
I gotta bitch,
and quit callin women bitches
F#
F#
As long as she don't worry
'bout the coke in the kitchen
E
E
D#
D#
No preventing the crime, I gotta get it
C#m
C#m
I'm admitted to the game,
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
true playa, no quittin
There you go shittin on
a way a nigga thinkin
F#
F#
Only history I know is Benjamin Franklin
Verse 4
E
E
And since the future
D#
D#
ain't promised to no one
C#m
C#m
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
I live everyday like this is the sure one
Train in the tidal wave, this is the ocean
F#
F#
Stand in the heat,
'til the mother fuckin snow come
E
E
And it feels so fuckin good
C#m
C#m
Throw my dope like a rope,
F#
F#
let them tug and pull
G#m
G#m
No
Verse 5
hope for the hopeless,
rats and roaches
F#
F#
Runnin cross the porch,
in the attic there's a fortune
E
E
Come and get it, automatics in motion
C#m
C#m
We bangin for the bread nigga,
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
even the mol ded
I got my loaf, I got my toast
F#
F#
Chaperone of the south,
E
E
I got my coast. Yeah
Verse 6
C#m
C#m
And until I die I'm Da. Da Da
F#
F#
G#m
G#m
Da Da. Da BEST RAP PER ALIVE

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