키: A major•
Verse 1
D
C#m
D
(Pew, pew- pew)
First person shooter mode
To them niggas that say
You better be talkin'
'bout workin' in cubicles
Not the three, not the two,
Numero U- N- O
Me and Drizzy, this shit
like the Super Bowl
Verse 2
Big as the Super Bowl
But the difference is
D
C#m
It's just two guys playin' shit
they verses back to me
D
C#m
D
And they be terrible, just like a two- year old
about who the G.O.A.T
D
C#m
D
I'm like "Go 'head, say it then,
D
C#m
"Who the G.O.A.T.? Who the G.O.A.T.?
D
C#m
Like a kid that act bad from
Nigga
It's just you and Cole
D
C#m
Big as the what? Big as the what?
Verse 3
and start lookin' too deep
I look at the tweets and start
suckin' my teeth
I'm lettin' it rock 'cause I
love the mystique
D
C#m
D
I still wanna get me a song with YB
D
C#m
I'd make sure you know that I hit
you like I'm on your caller ID
I'm namin' the album The Fall Off
D
C#m
It's pretty ironic 'cause it
but right now
A
C#m
D
I feel like Muhammed Ali
The one that they call when they shit
is me lookin' at Drake
It's like we recruited your homies
C#m
D
C#m
We got 'em attending a wake
Hate how the gang gotta
wait for the boss
D
C#m
well fuck it, then everybody breakfast
And I'm 'bout to clear up my
plate (Huh, huh, huh)
picture blockbuster
The G.O.A.T. with the golden pin,
sprayed his whole shit up, the crop duster
D
C#m
Not Russia, but apply pressure
To your cranium,
C#m
D
With The Boy in the status, a stadium
Nigga
Verse 4
C#m
D
C#m
Em
Ayy, I'm
'bout
to—, I'm bout to—
I'm 'bout to—, yeah
B
Yeah
Em
Verse 5
I'm 'bout to click out on this shit
I'm 'bout to click, woah
I'm 'bout to click out on this shit
I'm 'bout to click, woah
I'm down to click down you hoes
and make a crime scene
I click the trigger on the
stick like a high beam
Man, I was Bentley wheel whippin'
when I was nineteen
She call my number, leave her hangin',
she got dry- cleaned
She got a Android,
her messages is lime green
I search one name,
and end up seein' twenty tings
Nadine, Christine, Justine, Kathleen,
Charlene, Pauline, Claudine
Man, I pack 'em in this phone
like some sardines
And they send me naked pictures,
it's the small things
You niggas is still takin'
pictures on a dog stream
My youngers richer than you
rappers and they all stream
I really hate that you been sellin'
them some false dreams
Man, if your pub was up for sale,
I buy the whole thing
Will they ever give me flowers? Well,
of course not
They don't wanna have that talk,
'cause it's a sore spot
They know The Boy the one
they gotta boycott
I told Jim and Jammer I use a
GRAMMY as a door stop
Girl gave me some head because I need it
Niggas talkin' 'bout when
this gon' be repeated
Nigga, beat it, nigga, beat it, what?
Verse 6
what? Beat it, what?
Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it,
what? Beat it, what?
Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it,
what? Beat it, what?
Don't even pay me back on none them favors,
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