Chords for Slaughterhouse "Microphone" Director's Cut / Album In Stores & Online Now

_ [F] _ _ _ _ Yeah, _ _ _ yeah, _ too _
_ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _
many Indians and no chiefs.
I pull out the pistol when I'm no [G] peace.
I'm the blueprint.
I had your clothes looking like they was designed
by bullet holes and shoe prints.
When I bless a joint, it's like fire came [Abm] up in the spot
and grabbed the beat by the pressure point.
I got the [Ab] folk and folk.
I tell my bitch I'ma give up drinking
when she give her [C] emotions up.
Too many enemies and no killers.
Too many that hate snitching but no [G] squillers.
I get stacks.
I blam hard with the click clack.
That damn article bitch rap.
I spit crack for y'all niggas to get dope.
Y'all gotta wait for the [Ab] transporter to get back.
[F] So who's illest?
What you talking about?
Die hard like you [G] Bruce Willis when I shoot to [C] kill it.
Too many hood guys, not enough good guys.
The way you say pussy in plural [G] is poseidon.
I don't be fucking around on that microphone.
When I'm picking them clothes on that microphone.
[F] The illest nigga that's low in that microphone.
I put my [G] heart and my soul in that [C] microphone.
I put it down on that microphone.
Turn up the motherfucking sound on that [G] microphone.
But turn it down if you weak on that microphone.
Lame [Bb] niggas shouldn't speak on that microphone.
My ultrasound show me holding a microphone.
[G] That's how my mama I was born with a [Bb] microphone.
Groupies love crooked eye on the microphone.
[B] Like James Brown, I'ma [C] die on the microphone.
Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone.
They on the same bullshit that Mike was [G] on.
You're looking at the unseen, listen to the unheard.
I kill your career with one word.
You're verbally flirting with murder, you got some [Abm] nerve.
I lift a skirt like a young perv.
Knock him out, we the mob.
[G] Homie, who need a job?
Plus I'm so fly, tell Derek Fisher [C] I need a lob.
Too many in this industry I need to rob.
And if eating niggas made you obese, I'd be the [G] mob.
Fuck props nigga, this [Ab] a different conquest.
Listen to Terry spitting, think [C] it's a pissing contest.
I'm in it for power, cowards try to stop [Ab] me.
They better off using a fishing pole to reel in the [C] Loch Ness.
Yes, I got a barrel that'll spot pussy.
If you are what you eat, how come I'm not [Gm] pussy?
[G] You little niggas better come off that microphone.
I'm educated, but I'm dumb on that microphone.
Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone.
[F] I'll turn a father [G] to a son on that microphone.
I'm a revolver and it's slim on that [Abm] microphone.
And tell his sons I [C] don't need no microphone.
Too many critics tend to be silly.
Too many frogs don't rip it, but never leave [G] lily.
I get it popping like a NeNe Millie.
Now I'm having a whale of a good time, I'm a free [Ab] willy.
Y'all lip singers take a pic, click [Em] cheese Millie.
Fans, who the man?
I [G] make quick pic easily.
None of you kids think evenly.
You body my verses like a thick [C] bitch leaving me.
Too many fantasies and no fame.
Too many claiming insanity and they so [G] sane.
Less than wax, Scooby snack, Lack, Flow game rappers.
Everything I do be that crack cocaine.
[Ab] Your career is doobie rap, slap Joe name
and any one of them verses say hello to [C] the hearses.
Too many monkeys see monkey doers.
I slaughter pigs on my tail like monkey [G] booster.
Niggas know I get it in on that microphone.
Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone.
I don't see how y'all can win on that microphone.
A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone.
Decide who you wanna be on that microphone.
I see a bunch of little me's [C] microphone.
Too many 20 milligram mics, I'm on.
Kilt the web, it don't matter what site [G] you're on.
Say it's now, foes running off.
I tell them bridge or tunnel.
Uber, flock, I come across all these wanna be tough guys.
Son of soft, gonna [Gb] go off, have them like [F] a good show.
Just run them off.
Treat old timers like bags who drop the [G] soap.
They might got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was [C] dope.
Too many dogs not in the parking yet.
Too many blueprints not in the [D] architect.
Plumbing [Abm] started yet.
Still [G] every bar's a mess.
Rock record sales are who the machine markets best.
I'm the last motherfucker to y'all should test.
I'm the sharp shooter.
You the nigga I [C] target next.
Too many frontin' like y'all that fly.
Reachin' cause we set the bar that [G] high.
This is the way I'm trippin'.
Buckle up, grab on that microphone.
You lame niggas, shit's become a microphone.
You old niggas need to come off that microphone.
[F]
Niggas know I get it in on that microphone. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [C] Buckle up, let's go. _
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