34
Rich Homie Quan
Ebm
(início)
Ebm Gb |Ebm 30, you a fool for this one
Chorus
Db Gb Ebm Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four Db Gb Ebm Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close Db Gb Ebm Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost Db Gb Ebm Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door Db Gb Ebm We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it Db Gb Ebm Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic Db Gb Ebm Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic Db Gb Ebm You work at Lids, puttin' shit on your kids, go'n with all that cappin' (talk your shit, Rich Homie)
Verse 1
Ebm Pulled up in that Benz, I hopped out perfect (I hopped out clean) Ebm Tried to rob me, you got killed, now was it worth it? (fa-fa-fa-fa) Ebm Might buy that Maybach, I grew up without no curtains (might buy that six-three, nigga) Ebm And when I get it, I'ma keep my windows rolled up on purpose (ayy, ayy) Gb Ebm You can't tell a nigga like me shit (nah) I ain't have it all when I was little (nope) Gb Ebm Sixteen years old, drinkin' liquor (what?) I ain't never ever touched a beer (ha) Gb Ebm I ain't never ever touch a mill' (never) Till I stayed down and start rappin' (I stayed down, nigga) Gb Ebm Then I turned my dreams into reality (that right too), I rode that
Chorus
Db Gb Ebm Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four Db Gb Ebm Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close Db Gb Ebm Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost Db Gb Ebm Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door Db Gb Ebm We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it Db Gb Ebm Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic Db Gb Ebm Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic Db Gb Ebm You work at Lids, puttin' shit on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'
Verse 2
Gb Ebm We were growin' up, fightin' when we were kids (yeah) Remember some nights where we ain't eat? (ayy) Gb Ebm I was Holyfield, hustlin' in the trap (truth) They was Mike Tyson, bitin' on the kid (ayy, Mike) Gb Ebm I remember tryin' to get rich (hey) Smokin' two for fives of the mid (woo) Gb Ebm Never had nothing growin' up (nah) Nigga, don't be surprised when I get it (ayy) Gb Ebm Where were you when I was on my dick? (woo) I was so broke, I needed fix (yup) Gb Ebm Reminiscin' 'bout me growin' up You know I hate to talk about this shit (I do) Gb Ebm Load the ten and walked up out the bitch (ten) Stripper fame, tryin' to see who gettin' it (ha) Gb Ebm Walkin' around with that thang on me N.C. And you know I got my license for this bitch (Rich Homie, baby)
Chorus
Db Gb Ebm Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four Db Gb Ebm Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close Db Gb Ebm Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost Db Gb Ebm Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door Db Gb Ebm We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it Db Gb Ebm Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic Db Gb Ebm Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic Db Gb Ebm You work at Lids, puttin' shit on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'
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