Live At The Barbeque Chords by Main Source
Tempo:
102.05 bpm
Chords used:
Fm
C
E
Abm
Em
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[E] Talk to [Abm] me, [Eb] please.
[N]
Hey!
[Fm] Hey!
[C] [Fm]
Hey!
Hey!
[Abm] Hey!
Hey!
[C] [Fm] Hey!
[Cm] Hey!
[Fm]
Hey!
Hey!
[C] Street's a sight, boo.
My rap's a trifle.
I shoot slugs with my brain just like a rifle.
Stampede the stage.
I leave the microphone split.
Play Mr.
Tuffy while I'm on some pretty tone shit.
Verbal assassin.
My encore tech pleases.
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus.
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America.
Police murderer.
I'm causin' hysteria.
My troops roll up with a strange force.
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the main source.
Swimmin' in women like a lifeguard.
Put on a bulletproof nigga I'd fight hard.
Kidnapped the president's wife without a plan.
And hangin' niggas like the Ku Klux Klan.
I melt mics to the sound waves.
I'm more steppin' to me.
I'd rather step to Jehovah.
Slammin' MCs on cement.
Cause verbally, I'm iller than an AIDS patient.
I move swift and uplift your mind.
Shoot the gift when I riff and rhyme.
Rappin' Smythebug.
Speakin' real words.
My thoughts react like students' billboards.
Poetry attacks.
Paragraphs.
Once hard, my brain is insane.
I'm out to Luskar.
Science crap.
My rap's toxic.
My voice rocks, locks, and excels like a [Fm] rocket.
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
[C] Fatal is merciful and they curse me
when I [Em] grip the mic.
I show no mercy.
I got heart.
I rip the party
[C] apart from the scenes and hammer them up
like bell-bottom cheese.
But you get done.
You get blues like 501.
Brothers a lot, but I betcha I'm lotsa.
So let me get up on the scene and redeem
the dream of a team and knock them out
like mixed green smoke.
So top, we
flow at a hot speed.
Rap on, off
break.
Start my life, no plates.
Cause I'm
living larger than the founders of 50.
And Asiatic brothers that many represent me.
So round up your crew and entourage
and let the God merciful just take charge.
[Fm] That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
Some [Em] of them say that the
ox should [C] quit, but I don't sweat it.
Cause I'm
too big for that small shit.
Like
pigs when it comes to a showdown.
Puff it, puff, but the ox won't get blown down.
Cause I come strong, black and come at all and I'll
be ready.
That's what separates
me from the petty.
And these gats
themselves might think they're too much getty and get torn the
fuck up like confetti.
I'm rich
and thick and lyricist like Andrew Mimer.
It doesn't
take Keenan, Avi Wayne, to know that I'm a
getcha sucker if you bite like a piranha.
So say them free school rhymes for the kids that
want a rhyme-a.
[E] Quip like, period,
with no [C] comma.
Rhyme so dangerous,
call for the homicide.
Cause I knock
them dead even when I'm at my work.
The only
truth that aligns ahead of them is the lights from the
hearse.
Got game like a crackhead
but don't be misled.
I keep rappers all locked
like a dread.
Mountains in the head from
the words that I've said.
So get a straddling league
to grade for the chicken [Fm] tortoise, yeah.
Let's [G] go!
Let's [Fm] go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's [F] go!
Let's go! Let's go!
[C] I grab up girls like jacks.
Add em
on like tacks and I'm over like hot tracks.
As far as lovers are concerned, I pressure
quicker from start.
To finish, I diminish
like a freezing arc.
Secondly, I'm sick of critics
Who's speckin' me?
Ooh, you got an afro!
Yo, but I got dough!
Why's my name the Lord Professor?
Cause I milked your cow, in other words, I hit your heifer!
Don't talk about how you could break Rambo!
That's just a bunch of men with your hand full!
Propaganda, save it for Savannah, Joe and Amanda,
Zach and Alexandra!
Don't let the folks around your way pump your head,
Cause you'll be the owner of a hospital bed!
I'll kick fire out your ass so fast,
You'll be as creepy as my man Bill [Fm] Blass!
And that's all for my DECKTOP!
And [C] that's all [Fm] for my DECKTOP!
And that's all for my DECKTOP!
And that's all for my DECKTOP!
[N]
Hey!
[Fm] Hey!
[C] [Fm]
Hey!
Hey!
[Abm] Hey!
Hey!
[C] [Fm] Hey!
[Cm] Hey!
[Fm]
Hey!
Hey!
[C] Street's a sight, boo.
My rap's a trifle.
I shoot slugs with my brain just like a rifle.
Stampede the stage.
I leave the microphone split.
Play Mr.
Tuffy while I'm on some pretty tone shit.
Verbal assassin.
My encore tech pleases.
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus.
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America.
Police murderer.
I'm causin' hysteria.
My troops roll up with a strange force.
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the main source.
Swimmin' in women like a lifeguard.
Put on a bulletproof nigga I'd fight hard.
Kidnapped the president's wife without a plan.
And hangin' niggas like the Ku Klux Klan.
I melt mics to the sound waves.
I'm more steppin' to me.
I'd rather step to Jehovah.
Slammin' MCs on cement.
Cause verbally, I'm iller than an AIDS patient.
I move swift and uplift your mind.
Shoot the gift when I riff and rhyme.
Rappin' Smythebug.
Speakin' real words.
My thoughts react like students' billboards.
Poetry attacks.
Paragraphs.
Once hard, my brain is insane.
I'm out to Luskar.
Science crap.
My rap's toxic.
My voice rocks, locks, and excels like a [Fm] rocket.
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
[C] Fatal is merciful and they curse me
when I [Em] grip the mic.
I show no mercy.
I got heart.
I rip the party
[C] apart from the scenes and hammer them up
like bell-bottom cheese.
But you get done.
You get blues like 501.
Brothers a lot, but I betcha I'm lotsa.
So let me get up on the scene and redeem
the dream of a team and knock them out
like mixed green smoke.
So top, we
flow at a hot speed.
Rap on, off
break.
Start my life, no plates.
Cause I'm
living larger than the founders of 50.
And Asiatic brothers that many represent me.
So round up your crew and entourage
and let the God merciful just take charge.
[Fm] That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
Some [Em] of them say that the
ox should [C] quit, but I don't sweat it.
Cause I'm
too big for that small shit.
Like
pigs when it comes to a showdown.
Puff it, puff, but the ox won't get blown down.
Cause I come strong, black and come at all and I'll
be ready.
That's what separates
me from the petty.
And these gats
themselves might think they're too much getty and get torn the
fuck up like confetti.
I'm rich
and thick and lyricist like Andrew Mimer.
It doesn't
take Keenan, Avi Wayne, to know that I'm a
getcha sucker if you bite like a piranha.
So say them free school rhymes for the kids that
want a rhyme-a.
[E] Quip like, period,
with no [C] comma.
Rhyme so dangerous,
call for the homicide.
Cause I knock
them dead even when I'm at my work.
The only
truth that aligns ahead of them is the lights from the
hearse.
Got game like a crackhead
but don't be misled.
I keep rappers all locked
like a dread.
Mountains in the head from
the words that I've said.
So get a straddling league
to grade for the chicken [Fm] tortoise, yeah.
Let's [G] go!
Let's [Fm] go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's [F] go!
Let's go! Let's go!
[C] I grab up girls like jacks.
Add em
on like tacks and I'm over like hot tracks.
As far as lovers are concerned, I pressure
quicker from start.
To finish, I diminish
like a freezing arc.
Secondly, I'm sick of critics
Who's speckin' me?
Ooh, you got an afro!
Yo, but I got dough!
Why's my name the Lord Professor?
Cause I milked your cow, in other words, I hit your heifer!
Don't talk about how you could break Rambo!
That's just a bunch of men with your hand full!
Propaganda, save it for Savannah, Joe and Amanda,
Zach and Alexandra!
Don't let the folks around your way pump your head,
Cause you'll be the owner of a hospital bed!
I'll kick fire out your ass so fast,
You'll be as creepy as my man Bill [Fm] Blass!
And that's all for my DECKTOP!
And [C] that's all [Fm] for my DECKTOP!
And that's all for my DECKTOP!
And that's all for my DECKTOP!
Key:
Fm
C
E
Abm
Em
Fm
C
E
[E] Talk to [Abm] me, [Eb] please.
_ _ [N]
Hey!
_ [Fm] _ Hey!
[C] _ [Fm] _ _
_ _ Hey!
_ Hey!
[Abm] Hey!
Hey!
[C] _ [Fm] Hey!
[Cm] Hey!
[Fm] _
Hey!
Hey! _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [C] _ Street's a sight, boo.
My rap's a trifle.
I shoot slugs with my brain just like a rifle.
Stampede the stage.
I leave the microphone split.
Play Mr.
Tuffy while I'm on some pretty tone shit.
Verbal assassin.
My encore tech pleases.
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus.
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America.
Police murderer.
I'm causin' hysteria.
My troops roll up with a strange force.
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the main source.
Swimmin' in women like a lifeguard.
Put on a bulletproof nigga I'd fight hard.
Kidnapped the president's wife without a plan.
And hangin' niggas like the Ku Klux Klan.
I melt mics to the sound waves.
I'm more steppin' to me.
I'd rather step to Jehovah.
Slammin' MCs on cement.
Cause verbally, I'm iller than an AIDS patient.
I move swift and uplift your mind.
Shoot the gift when I riff and rhyme.
Rappin' Smythebug.
Speakin' real words.
My thoughts react like students' billboards.
Poetry attacks.
Paragraphs.
Once hard, my brain is insane.
I'm out to Luskar.
Science crap.
My rap's toxic.
My voice rocks, locks, and excels like a [Fm] rocket.
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all! _
_ [C] _ Fatal is merciful and they curse me
when I [Em] grip the mic.
I show no mercy.
I got heart.
I rip the party
[C] apart from the scenes and hammer them up
like bell-bottom cheese.
But you get done.
You get blues like 501.
Brothers a lot, but I betcha I'm lotsa.
So let me get up on the scene and redeem
the dream of a team and knock them out
like mixed green smoke.
So top, we
flow at a hot speed.
Rap on, off
break.
Start my life, no plates.
Cause I'm
living larger than the founders of 50.
And Asiatic brothers that many represent me.
So round up your crew and entourage
and let the God merciful just take charge.
[Fm] That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
_ _ _ That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
Some [Em] of them say that the
ox should [C] quit, but I don't sweat it.
Cause I'm
too big for that small shit.
Like
pigs when it comes to a showdown.
Puff it, puff, but the ox won't get blown down.
Cause I come strong, black and come at all and I'll
be ready.
That's what separates
me from the petty.
And these gats
themselves might think they're too much getty and get torn the
fuck up like confetti.
I'm rich
and thick and lyricist like Andrew Mimer.
It doesn't
take Keenan, Avi Wayne, to know that I'm a
getcha sucker if you bite like a piranha.
So say them free school rhymes for the kids that
want a rhyme-a.
[E] Quip like, period,
with no [C] comma.
Rhyme so dangerous,
call for the homicide.
Cause I knock
them dead even when I'm at my work.
The only
truth that aligns ahead of them is the lights from the
hearse.
Got game like a crackhead
but don't be misled.
I keep rappers all locked
like a dread.
Mountains in the head from
the words that I've said.
So get a straddling league
to grade for the chicken [Fm] tortoise, yeah.
Let's [G] go!
Let's [Fm] go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's [F] go!
Let's go! Let's go!
[C] I grab up girls like jacks.
Add em
on like tacks and I'm over like hot tracks.
As far as lovers are concerned, I pressure
quicker from start.
To finish, I diminish
like a freezing arc.
Secondly, I'm sick of critics
Who's speckin' me?
Ooh, you got an afro!
Yo, but I got dough!
Why's my name the Lord Professor?
Cause I milked your cow, in other words, I hit your heifer!
Don't talk about how you could break Rambo!
That's just a bunch of men with your hand full!
Propaganda, save it for Savannah, Joe and Amanda,
Zach and Alexandra!
Don't let the folks around your way pump your head,
Cause you'll be the owner of a hospital bed!
I'll kick fire out your ass so fast,
You'll be as creepy as my man Bill [Fm] Blass! _ _ _ _ _
_ And that's all for my DECKTOP! _
And [C] that's all [Fm] for my DECKTOP! _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
And that's all for my DECKTOP! _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
And that's all for my DECKTOP! _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [N]
Hey!
_ [Fm] _ Hey!
[C] _ [Fm] _ _
_ _ Hey!
_ Hey!
[Abm] Hey!
Hey!
[C] _ [Fm] Hey!
[Cm] Hey!
[Fm] _
Hey!
Hey! _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [C] _ Street's a sight, boo.
My rap's a trifle.
I shoot slugs with my brain just like a rifle.
Stampede the stage.
I leave the microphone split.
Play Mr.
Tuffy while I'm on some pretty tone shit.
Verbal assassin.
My encore tech pleases.
When I was twelve, I went to hell for snuffin' Jesus.
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America.
Police murderer.
I'm causin' hysteria.
My troops roll up with a strange force.
I was trapped in a cage and let out by the main source.
Swimmin' in women like a lifeguard.
Put on a bulletproof nigga I'd fight hard.
Kidnapped the president's wife without a plan.
And hangin' niggas like the Ku Klux Klan.
I melt mics to the sound waves.
I'm more steppin' to me.
I'd rather step to Jehovah.
Slammin' MCs on cement.
Cause verbally, I'm iller than an AIDS patient.
I move swift and uplift your mind.
Shoot the gift when I riff and rhyme.
Rappin' Smythebug.
Speakin' real words.
My thoughts react like students' billboards.
Poetry attacks.
Paragraphs.
Once hard, my brain is insane.
I'm out to Luskar.
Science crap.
My rap's toxic.
My voice rocks, locks, and excels like a [Fm] rocket.
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all! _
_ [C] _ Fatal is merciful and they curse me
when I [Em] grip the mic.
I show no mercy.
I got heart.
I rip the party
[C] apart from the scenes and hammer them up
like bell-bottom cheese.
But you get done.
You get blues like 501.
Brothers a lot, but I betcha I'm lotsa.
So let me get up on the scene and redeem
the dream of a team and knock them out
like mixed green smoke.
So top, we
flow at a hot speed.
Rap on, off
break.
Start my life, no plates.
Cause I'm
living larger than the founders of 50.
And Asiatic brothers that many represent me.
So round up your crew and entourage
and let the God merciful just take charge.
[Fm] That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
_ _ _ That's y'all!
That's y'all!
That's y'all!
Some [Em] of them say that the
ox should [C] quit, but I don't sweat it.
Cause I'm
too big for that small shit.
Like
pigs when it comes to a showdown.
Puff it, puff, but the ox won't get blown down.
Cause I come strong, black and come at all and I'll
be ready.
That's what separates
me from the petty.
And these gats
themselves might think they're too much getty and get torn the
fuck up like confetti.
I'm rich
and thick and lyricist like Andrew Mimer.
It doesn't
take Keenan, Avi Wayne, to know that I'm a
getcha sucker if you bite like a piranha.
So say them free school rhymes for the kids that
want a rhyme-a.
[E] Quip like, period,
with no [C] comma.
Rhyme so dangerous,
call for the homicide.
Cause I knock
them dead even when I'm at my work.
The only
truth that aligns ahead of them is the lights from the
hearse.
Got game like a crackhead
but don't be misled.
I keep rappers all locked
like a dread.
Mountains in the head from
the words that I've said.
So get a straddling league
to grade for the chicken [Fm] tortoise, yeah.
Let's [G] go!
Let's [Fm] go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's go!
Let's [F] go!
Let's go! Let's go!
[C] I grab up girls like jacks.
Add em
on like tacks and I'm over like hot tracks.
As far as lovers are concerned, I pressure
quicker from start.
To finish, I diminish
like a freezing arc.
Secondly, I'm sick of critics
Who's speckin' me?
Ooh, you got an afro!
Yo, but I got dough!
Why's my name the Lord Professor?
Cause I milked your cow, in other words, I hit your heifer!
Don't talk about how you could break Rambo!
That's just a bunch of men with your hand full!
Propaganda, save it for Savannah, Joe and Amanda,
Zach and Alexandra!
Don't let the folks around your way pump your head,
Cause you'll be the owner of a hospital bed!
I'll kick fire out your ass so fast,
You'll be as creepy as my man Bill [Fm] Blass! _ _ _ _ _
_ And that's all for my DECKTOP! _
And [C] that's all [Fm] for my DECKTOP! _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
And that's all for my DECKTOP! _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
And that's all for my DECKTOP! _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Facts about this song