调:C minor•
Verse 1
Figaro platinum shit, man
Where are you traveling today? It seems you've run out
of space on your passport. There's no place to stamp
I'm a soul train, catch me on
more clear jets, nigga
Sir
Versace shower sprinklers, nigga
Brooks Brothers shit...
You've run out of space on your
Eb
Bb
Gm
Monte Carlo. The Cay mans
Eb
Cm
Ab
I'm sorry sir but we won't be able to allow
Gm
Cm
Nigga we drink that mothafuckin' Dom
Perignon
It's been [?], sir
Ab
Baug
Abm
Gm
Jeroboam, nigga, 1907 shipwreck,
Eb
Cm
Eb
Gm
high chief, nigga
Ab
Abm
Baug
Excuse me, you don't have any more
Spike convertibles
Excuse me, we have other
people in line
Fly International Luxurious Art
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