Chords for Blah Blah Blah-Brother ali
Tempo:
47.9 bpm
Chords used:
E
B
Bm
Gm
Ab
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
Get yourself together now [Gm] because it's hit time.
[E] You know that the hit makers, record [B] breakers, audio makers, they'll make your back crack,
your liver, brother.
The more holes you catch, the more dips in your hips, more pop in your strut, strut,
[E] strut, more glide in your stride.
If you don't dig that, you got a hole in your soul.
If something didn't mess, you came to the wrong tress.
[Ab] They gonna sing mighty loud [E] and clear.
Hey yo, the music made him chump back.
Fuck that, how y'all gonna come track something fat without that gnarly touch that?
Cutting wack, leave his lip.
You're not serious.
I got few equals and no superiors.
So [B] here he is.
The ZZ veteran, the ego wrecking.
I turn it up another notch to keep the people guessing.
Y'all ain't fucking with the ox or with your feeble sessing.
Double teaming for the evening, [Bm] so you're here for last in the summer.
Looking at me like the L man.
Only bodies far as they drunk ass can throw me.
Do it, somebody's [E] bound to catch it.
No breakage, never that.
We keep it basic like breakfast, so taste it.
The vitamins [B] are subtle, so tighten up the sluggle.
We can try to decipher the puzzle, but shut up, yo.
Fuck that, suck a chump back.
I hold the game like on the game.
I know your game.
We fuck a jack.
I'll eat one back.
From cats lips to God's ears.
We line y'all punk [E] bastards across ears.
Applying our fuck tactics till y'all scared.
Don't stop till your drunk ass hits the back stairs.
Fuck that, jump [B] back, yo.
What's that?
Dripping over her nuts.
Wait, [B] why she got a nut sack?
You fucking rappers are she-males.
From the retail to the email, the speech felt, cause you need help.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and [E] observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
What the fuck?
What [Em] [Bb] [E]
the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Rappers stepping tight.
Yeah, they get they shits fucked.
I'm for a rule of quarters and cyphers and better haircuts.
Yo, I don't care where you represent, [Db] son.
Where's your chicks at?
We'll take her out for breakfast if you [E] wanna let your lips run.
Listen, I know your mission.
Some type of magician that likes to go fishing.
On a mic with airtight precision.
A lead that's keeping tradition when you ain't even keeping the rhythm.
The DJ is spinning.
Calm down, little [B] camper.
I've got the answers.
You should fuck [E] exotic dancers.
You should grow a pair of tits and some antlers.
It doesn't matter.
Turn it up.
What the [Bm] fuck you think that is?
I write songs, write rhymes, write my [B] name in the snow.
And I could use all that I have to bend the [Bm] frame of your heart.
And I should, but instead I just play the waiter and go.
But if I [E] didn't have a wife, yo, your kids would be albinos.
Your respect is like a stick in the grass.
Me, mugs are tree hugs.
I'll go [B] on without it.
I'll wet my toilet paper so that y'all can [E] kiss my ass.
With your tongue out and write a love song about it.
Write that shit inside of your book full of [B] funny little scribbles.
The love comes in vomit.
The money comes in dribbles.
The Minnesota Missiles.
Self-taught.
Communication mutilation.
Holding [E] pictures of your sister naked.
You're too drunk to walk down the stairs.
And now you're standing here choking on my pubic hairs.
Telling me your name is if you think the brother cares.
If you keep up on your gums, then we can fucking take it there.
I'll make a room full of folk rock, stop and do the walk.
Wrestle shots from a cop and ask him, who's your papa?
Who's your daddy?
Fuck that, show back and act happy.
And sing my fucking chorus by [B] punching you in the face.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit [E] wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
[B] [E] [E] [B] [F] [N]
[E] You know that the hit makers, record [B] breakers, audio makers, they'll make your back crack,
your liver, brother.
The more holes you catch, the more dips in your hips, more pop in your strut, strut,
[E] strut, more glide in your stride.
If you don't dig that, you got a hole in your soul.
If something didn't mess, you came to the wrong tress.
[Ab] They gonna sing mighty loud [E] and clear.
Hey yo, the music made him chump back.
Fuck that, how y'all gonna come track something fat without that gnarly touch that?
Cutting wack, leave his lip.
You're not serious.
I got few equals and no superiors.
So [B] here he is.
The ZZ veteran, the ego wrecking.
I turn it up another notch to keep the people guessing.
Y'all ain't fucking with the ox or with your feeble sessing.
Double teaming for the evening, [Bm] so you're here for last in the summer.
Looking at me like the L man.
Only bodies far as they drunk ass can throw me.
Do it, somebody's [E] bound to catch it.
No breakage, never that.
We keep it basic like breakfast, so taste it.
The vitamins [B] are subtle, so tighten up the sluggle.
We can try to decipher the puzzle, but shut up, yo.
Fuck that, suck a chump back.
I hold the game like on the game.
I know your game.
We fuck a jack.
I'll eat one back.
From cats lips to God's ears.
We line y'all punk [E] bastards across ears.
Applying our fuck tactics till y'all scared.
Don't stop till your drunk ass hits the back stairs.
Fuck that, jump [B] back, yo.
What's that?
Dripping over her nuts.
Wait, [B] why she got a nut sack?
You fucking rappers are she-males.
From the retail to the email, the speech felt, cause you need help.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and [E] observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
What the fuck?
What [Em] [Bb] [E]
the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Rappers stepping tight.
Yeah, they get they shits fucked.
I'm for a rule of quarters and cyphers and better haircuts.
Yo, I don't care where you represent, [Db] son.
Where's your chicks at?
We'll take her out for breakfast if you [E] wanna let your lips run.
Listen, I know your mission.
Some type of magician that likes to go fishing.
On a mic with airtight precision.
A lead that's keeping tradition when you ain't even keeping the rhythm.
The DJ is spinning.
Calm down, little [B] camper.
I've got the answers.
You should fuck [E] exotic dancers.
You should grow a pair of tits and some antlers.
It doesn't matter.
Turn it up.
What the [Bm] fuck you think that is?
I write songs, write rhymes, write my [B] name in the snow.
And I could use all that I have to bend the [Bm] frame of your heart.
And I should, but instead I just play the waiter and go.
But if I [E] didn't have a wife, yo, your kids would be albinos.
Your respect is like a stick in the grass.
Me, mugs are tree hugs.
I'll go [B] on without it.
I'll wet my toilet paper so that y'all can [E] kiss my ass.
With your tongue out and write a love song about it.
Write that shit inside of your book full of [B] funny little scribbles.
The love comes in vomit.
The money comes in dribbles.
The Minnesota Missiles.
Self-taught.
Communication mutilation.
Holding [E] pictures of your sister naked.
You're too drunk to walk down the stairs.
And now you're standing here choking on my pubic hairs.
Telling me your name is if you think the brother cares.
If you keep up on your gums, then we can fucking take it there.
I'll make a room full of folk rock, stop and do the walk.
Wrestle shots from a cop and ask him, who's your papa?
Who's your daddy?
Fuck that, show back and act happy.
And sing my fucking chorus by [B] punching you in the face.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit [E] wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
[B] [E] [E] [B] [F] [N]
Key:
E
B
Bm
Gm
Ab
E
B
Bm
_ _ _ _ Get yourself together now [Gm] because it's hit time.
[E] You know that the hit makers, record [B] breakers, audio makers, they'll make your back crack,
your liver, brother.
The more holes you catch, the more dips in your hips, more pop in your strut, strut,
[E] strut, more glide in your stride.
If you don't dig that, you got a hole in your soul.
If something didn't mess, you came to the wrong tress.
[Ab] They gonna sing mighty loud [E] and clear.
Hey yo, the music made him chump back.
Fuck that, how y'all gonna come track something fat without that gnarly touch that?
Cutting wack, leave his lip.
You're not serious.
I got few equals and no superiors.
So [B] here he is.
The ZZ veteran, the ego wrecking.
I turn it up another notch to keep the people guessing.
Y'all ain't fucking with the ox or with your feeble sessing.
Double teaming for the evening, [Bm] so you're here for last in the summer.
Looking at me like the L man.
Only bodies far as they drunk ass can throw me.
Do it, somebody's [E] bound to catch it.
No breakage, never that.
We keep it basic like breakfast, so taste it.
The vitamins [B] are subtle, so tighten up the sluggle.
We can try to decipher the puzzle, but shut up, yo.
Fuck that, suck a chump back.
I hold the game like on the game.
I know your game.
We fuck a jack.
I'll eat one back.
From cats lips to God's ears.
We line y'all punk [E] bastards across ears.
Applying our fuck tactics till y'all scared.
Don't stop till your drunk ass hits the back stairs.
Fuck that, jump [B] back, yo.
What's that?
Dripping over her nuts.
Wait, [B] why she got a nut sack?
You fucking rappers are she-males.
From the retail to the email, the speech felt, cause you need help.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and [E] observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
What the fuck?
What [Em] _ _ [Bb] _ [E] _
the fuck?
What _ _ the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Rappers stepping tight.
Yeah, they get they shits fucked.
I'm for a rule of quarters and cyphers and better haircuts.
Yo, I don't care where you represent, [Db] son.
Where's your chicks at?
We'll take her out for breakfast if you [E] wanna let your lips run.
Listen, I know your mission.
Some type of magician that likes to go fishing.
On a mic with airtight precision.
A lead that's keeping tradition when you ain't even keeping the rhythm.
The DJ is spinning.
Calm down, little [B] camper.
I've got the answers.
You should fuck [E] exotic dancers.
You should grow a pair of tits and some antlers.
It doesn't matter.
Turn it up.
What the [Bm] fuck you think that is?
I write songs, write rhymes, write my [B] name in the snow.
And I could use all that I have to bend the [Bm] frame of your heart.
And I should, but instead I just play the waiter and go.
But if I [E] didn't have a wife, yo, your kids would be albinos.
Your respect is like a stick in the grass.
Me, mugs are tree hugs.
I'll go [B] on without it.
I'll wet my toilet paper so that y'all can [E] kiss my ass.
With your tongue out and write a love song about it.
Write that shit inside of your book full of [B] funny little scribbles.
The love comes in vomit.
The money comes in dribbles.
The Minnesota Missiles.
Self-taught.
Communication mutilation.
Holding [E] pictures of your sister naked.
You're too drunk to walk down the stairs.
And now you're standing here choking on my pubic hairs.
Telling me your name is if you think the brother cares.
If you keep up on your gums, then we can fucking take it there.
I'll make a room full of folk rock, stop and do the walk.
Wrestle shots from a cop and ask him, who's your papa?
Who's your daddy?
Fuck that, show back and act happy.
And sing my fucking chorus by [B] punching you in the face.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit [E] wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
[B] _ _ [E] _ _ [E] _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [F] _ _ [N] _
[E] You know that the hit makers, record [B] breakers, audio makers, they'll make your back crack,
your liver, brother.
The more holes you catch, the more dips in your hips, more pop in your strut, strut,
[E] strut, more glide in your stride.
If you don't dig that, you got a hole in your soul.
If something didn't mess, you came to the wrong tress.
[Ab] They gonna sing mighty loud [E] and clear.
Hey yo, the music made him chump back.
Fuck that, how y'all gonna come track something fat without that gnarly touch that?
Cutting wack, leave his lip.
You're not serious.
I got few equals and no superiors.
So [B] here he is.
The ZZ veteran, the ego wrecking.
I turn it up another notch to keep the people guessing.
Y'all ain't fucking with the ox or with your feeble sessing.
Double teaming for the evening, [Bm] so you're here for last in the summer.
Looking at me like the L man.
Only bodies far as they drunk ass can throw me.
Do it, somebody's [E] bound to catch it.
No breakage, never that.
We keep it basic like breakfast, so taste it.
The vitamins [B] are subtle, so tighten up the sluggle.
We can try to decipher the puzzle, but shut up, yo.
Fuck that, suck a chump back.
I hold the game like on the game.
I know your game.
We fuck a jack.
I'll eat one back.
From cats lips to God's ears.
We line y'all punk [E] bastards across ears.
Applying our fuck tactics till y'all scared.
Don't stop till your drunk ass hits the back stairs.
Fuck that, jump [B] back, yo.
What's that?
Dripping over her nuts.
Wait, [B] why she got a nut sack?
You fucking rappers are she-males.
From the retail to the email, the speech felt, cause you need help.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and [E] observe and follow.
Every open for y'all is still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da.
What the fuck?
What [Em] _ _ [Bb] _ [E] _
the fuck?
What _ _ the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Rappers stepping tight.
Yeah, they get they shits fucked.
I'm for a rule of quarters and cyphers and better haircuts.
Yo, I don't care where you represent, [Db] son.
Where's your chicks at?
We'll take her out for breakfast if you [E] wanna let your lips run.
Listen, I know your mission.
Some type of magician that likes to go fishing.
On a mic with airtight precision.
A lead that's keeping tradition when you ain't even keeping the rhythm.
The DJ is spinning.
Calm down, little [B] camper.
I've got the answers.
You should fuck [E] exotic dancers.
You should grow a pair of tits and some antlers.
It doesn't matter.
Turn it up.
What the [Bm] fuck you think that is?
I write songs, write rhymes, write my [B] name in the snow.
And I could use all that I have to bend the [Bm] frame of your heart.
And I should, but instead I just play the waiter and go.
But if I [E] didn't have a wife, yo, your kids would be albinos.
Your respect is like a stick in the grass.
Me, mugs are tree hugs.
I'll go [B] on without it.
I'll wet my toilet paper so that y'all can [E] kiss my ass.
With your tongue out and write a love song about it.
Write that shit inside of your book full of [B] funny little scribbles.
The love comes in vomit.
The money comes in dribbles.
The Minnesota Missiles.
Self-taught.
Communication mutilation.
Holding [E] pictures of your sister naked.
You're too drunk to walk down the stairs.
And now you're standing here choking on my pubic hairs.
Telling me your name is if you think the brother cares.
If you keep up on your gums, then we can fucking take it there.
I'll make a room full of folk rock, stop and do the walk.
Wrestle shots from a cop and ask him, who's your papa?
Who's your daddy?
Fuck that, show back and act happy.
And sing my fucking chorus by [B] punching you in the face.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit [E] wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
Y'all need to watch and observe and follow.
If we're looking for y'all, it's still our show.
I hear the same bullshit wherever I go like.
Da da da da da da da da da da da.
[B] _ _ [E] _ _ [E] _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ [F] _ _ [N] _