Autoscroll
1 Column 
Text size
Transpose 0
Tuning:
This is a simple 4-chord song. The twist is that it is raised about 10-15 hertz from 440 a (about 450-455). G Bb F C is played for all of the song. It's a very simple rap to play along to!
GThis is for the headsets Bbloving the mix, MyF people in the front, all Ccovered in spit, GBatters in the box, (oww)Bb Suffa to pitch, (what?) HiFlltop Hoods, all up in thiCs bitch, GAnd we the funk leaders, Bbpunks you can't beat us, WeF bump and pump meters, we Cdrunk you chumps need us, GSo jump with us, down in Bbthe front if it's, (IFf it's your flavour) your Cflavour come get drunk with us, (woo). GThis life turned out nothBbing like I Fhad planned, why not? C GBy now I should've had soBbme land, SoFme money in my hand, roundC about fifty grand, GBut I got nothing, (nothiBbng,) I write rhymes on the bus, I Fkeep suffering; (sufferingC), fuck the lines of the dust, GYou keep sniffing, that sBbhit is for the punk hoes, ThFis shit is for my bros, myC people in the front row.
The same for the rest of the song: I got hip-hop taste buds, I wanna hear that bass when I make love, I wanna hear some lyrics when I wake up, Write rhymes to get me through a break up, bitch! Rough like whisky straight, no chaser, Went through fifty breaks, no flavour, Till I found this one, and made the, Bass hook with the drum, my saviour, This is the comeback, tongue that's sharp like a thumbtack, It's so tight James is saying give my funk back, One track, eight track, a-dat, residual Noise, man fuck that, we clean with the digital, Toys I'm the Apache, you're failing to match me, Throw your hands in the air like you're hailing a taxi, And move to the funk flow, you stepping? Are you drunk bro? This is for my peeps and the freaks in the front row. [Verse Three - Suffa] People don't complain if Suffa's in here, And you're in the front row, all covered in beer, And club owners don't say ‘the place is wrecked it's your fault', (uh uh), If the roof is on fire it's an electrical fault, (woo), Man I bet you all bolt, when I bring it live Like Friday night footy, in my hoody can hide I, Gets live on the breaks son, like pace one, Lads, if you're heading to the bar grab your mates one, Ladies come chill, come rock with me honey, I got like half a mill in monopoly money, There's no stopping me honey, so you can take my hand, We can lay on the beach and count grains of sand, Or take a plane to Japan, and drink saki with mafia, Fly to Libya for some Bacardi with Gadafi a Dinner date, followed by a funk show, (uhh,) We'll rip off our tops and jump around in the front row. You know, I looked around, the faces I'd know, I fell in love with the people in the front row. You know, I looked around, the faces I'd know, I fell in love with the people in the front row. Put me here, and I'm all yours, Not for the money and it's not for the applause, no oh no no no It's for the nosebleed section. You know, I looked around, the faces I'd know, I fell in love with the people in the front row. You know, I looked around, the faces I'd know, I fell in love with the people in the front row.