The Club

The Club 的简化版吉他和弦,作者为 Tony Touch

N/A
吉他
调音

E A D G B E

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品位1

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移调

0

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  • Am

  • D

  • B

    2
  • C

  • Am

  • D

  • B

    2
  • C

  • Verse 1
    Am
    D
    Am
    D
    Am

    D

    Am

    [OC]

    The whole city's under siege when we
    B

    come through wit guns blazin
    Am

    You need to take a seat son,

    you just started shavin

    Respect ya elders,
    B

    stay in a child's play
    Am

    The monotone flow stayin

    even wit the bass
    B

    Oh good Lord, we throw it like a javelin toss
    Am

    Arrogance is the feature that

    we added for floss

    Come and get headline,
    B

    destined to get riches
    Am

    From either rappin our ass

    off or brick shipments

    Cover all regions,
    B
    Am

    makin sure the protty gets spread out

    We talk behind the mac

    you bust lead out

    Wit next prospect,
    B
    Am

    no particular con cept do we follow
    Verse 2

    Smooth but yet solid like marble
    Am

    [Diamond]
    B

    Niggas ain't fuckin wit D, fuckin wit me
    Am

    Lookin at me like "Yo, what can it be?"

    In the wide body- 7 while
    B

    you suckin the D
    Am

    Spent out in the wedge while

    I'm fuckin for free
    B

    Scared to death like you stuck in a tree
    Am

    I'ma stretch your ass out like

    I'm cuttin the deed

    Frontin like a big man
    B

    but you stuck in a three
    Am

    So you know your floss game

    ain't nuttin to me
    B

    When the sun hits the cross,

    yo it's something to see
    Am

    are- be

    , Kid Capri niggas runnin wit me

    Twenty karats on the wrist
    B

    ain't nuttin to me
    Am

    Do you know good frontin to me,
    Verse 3

    nigga
    Am

    [Kid Capri]

    Aiyyo Tone,
    B

    let's Touch these niggas wit the wand
    Am

    Then blow up like a bomb

    Made moves faster than the autobond

    The Kid Capri is a institution,
    B
    Am

    and all ya'll niggas is pollution

    Starin up a whole lot of confusion

    It's simple,
    B

    let's move out all these corn cats
    Am

    And disc jock dissin MC's that got

    the borin raps

    Fuck what ya got,
    B
    Am

    grimy niggas don't want to hear it

    Niggas take it, soon as they near it,

    you better fear it

    Bronx Bomber,
    B

    the pretty- fly girl charmer
    Am

    The black Italian,

    the cash keep pilin as I'm smilin

    So hear me now,
    B

    I bring the thunder plus the rumble
    Am

    And I'll step back and watch

    your whole career just crumble
    Verse 4
    Am

    [AG] Well it's

    the cheeba steamer,
    B
    Am

    brains on trains, won't eat her neither
    C

    Benz to the plane,
    Am

    off the plane to the Beemer

    Insane and off the meter,
    B
    Am

    in the rain I'll heat up

    And ya'll can't stop my sunshine,

    fuck one- time

    Got heavy wit gats to
    B

    push your face back
    Am

    Trash- ass album sound like

    you played it on eight- track
    B

    Rip you from the roots and under
    Am

    Triple gooses in the summer

    Mean long guns is producin

    the thunder
    B

    Convertible Hummers, we shit on the glock
    Am

    Try to put the roof up,

    I'll tell Show to piss on the top

    Wrist on the watch,
    B

    roll wit a click or a glock
    Am

    Plan on gettin a lot,

    from spittin or not

    Cool wit niggas that be flippin a lot
    B

    Probably got shit on your block
    Am

    And if you hate,

    I'll take it back to '88 (Nigga, get off the top)

    It's two- g's, let's get this money,

    you wit it or not

    But I'll switch topics like my bitch

    wit thongs in the tropics

    Make hits, straight hits

    Perform as long as I got it

    Seven- digits wit my name

    on the dotted

    Remain Dirty and potted,

    ya'll know me for the ruckus

    G.D. I only can fuck wit

    Get the dutch and tell Tony

    to Touch it

    [Party Artie] Guns, I tote them things
    B

    Blunts, I smoke them things
    Verse 5
    Am


    Rhymes, I wrote them things

    It's no such thing, as hoes fron- ting
    B

    We run train, I do my thug thing
    Am

    Grab the mic and leave a mud stain

    So get Tide wit bleach

    when I rhyme wit beats
    B

    Niggas do crimes to eat
    Am

    No pork, I don't talk,

    the nines just speak

    I'm the kind to creep on
    B

    your block wit the heat cocked
    Am

    Got the street locked,
    B

    smackin niggas out they Reeboks
    Am
    B

    It's Party Artie, I get dirty wit the Ewoks
    Am

    The infrared hit you in the head

    from three blocks
    B
    Am

    Away, Been There Done That like Dr. Dre

    It Ain't My Fault like

    Silkk the Shocker say
    B
    Am

    Ya'll niggas gots to pay,

    shots'll spray

    From the Bronx to Far Rock away
    B

    My whole team,
    Am

    strapped like Bokeem

    Fuck bein in jail,

    trapped wit no cream
    Verse 6
    Am

    [Lord Finesse] I be the

    don that's known
    B

    to have the style sewn
    Am

    More cheese than calzones, give chicks

    the dialtone

    Build like brownstones when
    B

    we slaughter your plan
    Am

    Touch al bums,

    so hot comes wit a portable fan
    B

    Type to starve the mic when I hog the light
    Am

    Lay my life on the lines

    if the odds is right

    Gettin the, spot and gleam
    B

    while you plot and scheme

    To stop the team,
    Am

    three words nigga: watch and dream

    You just mad hater,
    B

    'cause we movin wit dough
    Am

    You don't make sense like wearin
    Am

    suede shoes in the snow

    Finesse frontin? why'all know me,
    B

    I don't stress nuttin
    Am

    Bought your album,

    that's how I broke the eject button

    Don't stress dudes,
    B

    we just plot our next move
    Am

    Make niggas look stupid like

    joggin pants wit dress shoes

    The prophet,
    B

    shit john blaze like the tropics

    Type of nigga need a ? just
    Am

    for my pockets

    Don't flex punks,
    B

    we sex stunts, collect lumps

    You flossin now,
    Am

    you be pardon by next month
    B

    Type of thug, yo I was born to bug

    Waitin for us to fall, nigga join the club, what

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