Chords for Beastie Boys & Nas - Too Many Rappers (New Reactionaries Version)
Tempo:
90.75 bpm
Chords used:
E
G
F
D
Eb
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[Gm] [D] [G]
[D] [N]
[D] [N]
[Cm] [Db] [C]
[D] [F] [C] [F] Mike check.
Mike check.
[E] One, two, three.
Any rapper that is still not enough MC's, it goes [E] three.
One, MCA, [Em] Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and gents, attention.
Eyes in the house.
Hope these D-Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[G] Like an X and six, corporate money, the proof's in the can.
Now, [N] it's time to get loose.
Use your ear goggles, put your feet in the air.
People like a scientist, get the proofs in the beaker.
Have [G] MC's over my house.
Let your bloods, let your babbles.
We going out, [N] going to dust.
Just have me destroyed.
I start swinging, just randomly chopping on a crazy ass mission.
Because I'm back with the bang boogie.
Oogie oogie.
Scrawl every letter, turn the green light, sluggy.
Oh my God, just look at me.
I've been rapping since I ate T3.
I'm [G] like [Ebm] supersonic like [D] J.J. Man.
Crazy ass [C] shit, wouldn't I go for a tartar [G] sauce, yo?
Because it's sad, all these crowd rappers, they're rapping like hounds.
I have carte blanche, the vagabond.
[Bb] Now I'm just a narcissist.
[Eb] My [F] pockets are open, trying to make [N] a killer.
Look at this, you a mobile.
You ain't a shot, a monster, or a drug [G] dealer.
A slug killer, you're not.
My feel so noble, you [N] ain't got the control in you.
But you know, I ain't trying to hear your racket.
You work with police, dog.
You snitch, you rat.
You wear that jacket.
How many rappers [Dm] must get dissed?
Give me eight balls and I'll be blessed.
This is such a reminiscence.
For real, hip [B] hop, bitch, [G] I can see it.
It's like, I'm in the heat [Eb] zone.
Movin' everything, those muscle balls and soup.
[N] Jagged, some truth, that's sure.
One foot, this is real.
Now see Nas, [E] what's the word?
Count it off on the hook.
Let's go.
One, two, three.
Too many rappers and there's still not enough [F] MCs.
It goes three, three, [E] two, one.
MCA, Ag, Rock, Black, D.
This how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and dudes, attention.
Nas in the house.
Beastie Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[Eb] [D] [Em] [Eb] [D] [Em]
[B] [Bm] Nom, nom, [Eb] nom.
[D] [Em]
[B] [Em] [Eb] [Em]
[Eb] [G] This is the type of lyricals that satisfy your brain.
To play your bullshit, rap straight [C] out the bank.
The [E] lyrics spin round like a [G] hurricane, twist up.
It's a hologram on the office wall.
Let's go.
Too [E] many rappers to shake and stick that.
I order Judge Attacks, [N] but every week, whack.
I say listen to me, so that you can make a stack.
Stack records, I'm smart, he got a pack.
He's never coming back.
Sorry, crap rappers and hackers.
[Bb] Insurgent vendors, [Db] slip on Splendor.
[Bb] I shake the cake, stole the mold.
They call the [Ab] microphone, well, that's [G] mine to hold.
And why all these miners all up in my crotch?
[E] Space shipping, [F] buffing, huffing.
And me and Morgan with the blimpy [D] bluntons.
Come [G] talk me something, you ain't saying nothing.
I'm broader than Broadway.
I was the [Eb] Project Harvey.
Do-it-all, take the quarter.
[N] Lazy oratory of all day.
I'm just getting started on this beat.
This is foreplay.
And when the song's finished, I can sing along with it.
By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louis Times peppers.
I hear Russian blinds are wetter.
But anyway, I better pay homage to my fellas.
And that's what's on my mind.
And, [G] Ron, who's next up?
My name's old man of mystery.
History in the [N] making.
And now we're drinking.
Titles, awards, and accolades.
Here's a [E] competition as I sharpen [Dbm] my blades.
We come [Bb] together like peanut butter and sandwiches.
Like peanut people and pasta [D] with penises.
[G]
Rocking stadiums to shitty falls.
Going back in time, send the facts from my [E] car.
One, two, three.
So many rappers, and it's still not enough MCs.
[F] It goes [E] three, two, one.
MCA at rock, right?
This is how we get it done.
[E] Like, ladies and gents, attention.
Nines in the house.
With BC boys, we can turn [F] it out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[D] [N]
[D] [N]
[Cm] [Db] [C]
[D] [F] [C] [F] Mike check.
Mike check.
[E] One, two, three.
Any rapper that is still not enough MC's, it goes [E] three.
One, MCA, [Em] Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and gents, attention.
Eyes in the house.
Hope these D-Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[G] Like an X and six, corporate money, the proof's in the can.
Now, [N] it's time to get loose.
Use your ear goggles, put your feet in the air.
People like a scientist, get the proofs in the beaker.
Have [G] MC's over my house.
Let your bloods, let your babbles.
We going out, [N] going to dust.
Just have me destroyed.
I start swinging, just randomly chopping on a crazy ass mission.
Because I'm back with the bang boogie.
Oogie oogie.
Scrawl every letter, turn the green light, sluggy.
Oh my God, just look at me.
I've been rapping since I ate T3.
I'm [G] like [Ebm] supersonic like [D] J.J. Man.
Crazy ass [C] shit, wouldn't I go for a tartar [G] sauce, yo?
Because it's sad, all these crowd rappers, they're rapping like hounds.
I have carte blanche, the vagabond.
[Bb] Now I'm just a narcissist.
[Eb] My [F] pockets are open, trying to make [N] a killer.
Look at this, you a mobile.
You ain't a shot, a monster, or a drug [G] dealer.
A slug killer, you're not.
My feel so noble, you [N] ain't got the control in you.
But you know, I ain't trying to hear your racket.
You work with police, dog.
You snitch, you rat.
You wear that jacket.
How many rappers [Dm] must get dissed?
Give me eight balls and I'll be blessed.
This is such a reminiscence.
For real, hip [B] hop, bitch, [G] I can see it.
It's like, I'm in the heat [Eb] zone.
Movin' everything, those muscle balls and soup.
[N] Jagged, some truth, that's sure.
One foot, this is real.
Now see Nas, [E] what's the word?
Count it off on the hook.
Let's go.
One, two, three.
Too many rappers and there's still not enough [F] MCs.
It goes three, three, [E] two, one.
MCA, Ag, Rock, Black, D.
This how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and dudes, attention.
Nas in the house.
Beastie Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[Eb] [D] [Em] [Eb] [D] [Em]
[B] [Bm] Nom, nom, [Eb] nom.
[D] [Em]
[B] [Em] [Eb] [Em]
[Eb] [G] This is the type of lyricals that satisfy your brain.
To play your bullshit, rap straight [C] out the bank.
The [E] lyrics spin round like a [G] hurricane, twist up.
It's a hologram on the office wall.
Let's go.
Too [E] many rappers to shake and stick that.
I order Judge Attacks, [N] but every week, whack.
I say listen to me, so that you can make a stack.
Stack records, I'm smart, he got a pack.
He's never coming back.
Sorry, crap rappers and hackers.
[Bb] Insurgent vendors, [Db] slip on Splendor.
[Bb] I shake the cake, stole the mold.
They call the [Ab] microphone, well, that's [G] mine to hold.
And why all these miners all up in my crotch?
[E] Space shipping, [F] buffing, huffing.
And me and Morgan with the blimpy [D] bluntons.
Come [G] talk me something, you ain't saying nothing.
I'm broader than Broadway.
I was the [Eb] Project Harvey.
Do-it-all, take the quarter.
[N] Lazy oratory of all day.
I'm just getting started on this beat.
This is foreplay.
And when the song's finished, I can sing along with it.
By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louis Times peppers.
I hear Russian blinds are wetter.
But anyway, I better pay homage to my fellas.
And that's what's on my mind.
And, [G] Ron, who's next up?
My name's old man of mystery.
History in the [N] making.
And now we're drinking.
Titles, awards, and accolades.
Here's a [E] competition as I sharpen [Dbm] my blades.
We come [Bb] together like peanut butter and sandwiches.
Like peanut people and pasta [D] with penises.
[G]
Rocking stadiums to shitty falls.
Going back in time, send the facts from my [E] car.
One, two, three.
So many rappers, and it's still not enough MCs.
[F] It goes [E] three, two, one.
MCA at rock, right?
This is how we get it done.
[E] Like, ladies and gents, attention.
Nines in the house.
With BC boys, we can turn [F] it out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
Key:
E
G
F
D
Eb
E
G
F
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [Gm] _ [D] _ _ _ [G] _
_ _ [D] _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [D] _ _ _ [N] _ _
_ [Cm] _ _ _ [Db] _ [C] _ _ _
_ [D] _ _ _ [F] _ _ [C] [F] Mike check.
_ Mike check.
_ _ [E] One, two, three.
Any rapper that is still not enough MC's, it goes [E] three.
One, MCA, [Em] Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and gents, attention.
Eyes in the house.
Hope these D-Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[G] Like an X and six, corporate money, the proof's in the can.
Now, [N] it's time to get loose.
Use your ear goggles, put your feet in the air.
People like a scientist, get the proofs in the beaker.
Have [G] MC's over my house.
Let your bloods, let your babbles.
We going out, [N] going to dust.
Just have me destroyed.
I start swinging, just randomly chopping on a crazy ass mission.
Because I'm back with the bang boogie.
Oogie oogie.
Scrawl every letter, turn the green light, sluggy.
Oh my God, just look at me.
I've been rapping since I ate T3.
I'm [G] like [Ebm] supersonic like [D] J.J. Man.
Crazy ass [C] shit, wouldn't I go for a tartar [G] sauce, yo?
Because it's sad, all these crowd rappers, they're rapping like hounds.
I have carte blanche, the vagabond.
[Bb] Now I'm just a narcissist.
[Eb] My [F] pockets are open, trying to make [N] a killer.
Look at this, you a mobile.
You ain't a shot, a monster, or a drug [G] dealer.
A slug killer, you're not.
My feel so noble, you [N] ain't got the control in you.
But you know, I ain't trying to hear your racket.
You work with police, dog.
You snitch, you rat.
You wear that jacket.
How many rappers [Dm] must get dissed?
Give me eight balls and I'll be blessed.
This is such a reminiscence.
For real, hip [B] hop, bitch, [G] I can see it.
It's like, I'm in the heat [Eb] zone.
Movin' everything, those muscle balls and soup.
[N] Jagged, some truth, that's sure.
One foot, this is real.
Now see Nas, [E] what's the word?
Count it off on the hook.
Let's go.
One, two, three.
Too many rappers and there's still not enough [F] MCs.
It goes three, three, [E] two, one.
MCA, Ag, Rock, Black, D.
This how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and dudes, attention.
Nas in the house.
Beastie Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
_ [Eb] _ [D] _ [Em] _ _ [Eb] _ [D] _ [Em] _
_ [B] _ [Bm] _ Nom, nom, [Eb] nom.
[D] _ [Em] _
_ [B] _ [Em] _ _ _ [Eb] _ [Em] _ _
[Eb] _ _ _ _ _ _ [G] This is the type of lyricals that satisfy your brain.
To play your bullshit, rap straight [C] out the bank.
The [E] lyrics spin round like a [G] hurricane, twist up.
It's a hologram on the office wall.
Let's go.
Too [E] many rappers to shake and stick that.
I order Judge Attacks, [N] but every week, whack.
I say listen to me, so that you can make a stack.
Stack records, I'm smart, he got a pack.
He's never coming back. _
Sorry, crap rappers and hackers.
[Bb] Insurgent vendors, [Db] slip on Splendor.
[Bb] I shake the cake, stole the mold.
They call the [Ab] microphone, well, that's [G] mine to hold.
And why all these miners all up in my crotch?
[E] Space shipping, [F] buffing, huffing.
And me and Morgan with the blimpy [D] bluntons.
Come [G] talk me something, you ain't saying nothing.
I'm broader than Broadway.
I was the [Eb] Project Harvey.
Do-it-all, take the quarter.
[N] Lazy oratory of all day.
I'm just getting started on this beat.
This is foreplay.
And when the song's finished, I can sing along with it.
By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louis Times peppers.
I hear Russian blinds are wetter.
But anyway, I better pay homage to my fellas.
And that's what's on my mind.
And, [G] Ron, who's next up?
My name's old man of mystery.
History in the [N] making.
And now we're drinking.
Titles, awards, and accolades.
Here's a [E] competition as I sharpen [Dbm] my blades.
We come [Bb] together like peanut butter and sandwiches.
Like peanut people and pasta [D] with penises.
[G]
Rocking stadiums to shitty falls.
Going back in time, send the facts from my [E] car.
One, two, three.
So many rappers, and it's still not enough MCs.
[F] It goes [E] three, two, one.
MCA at rock, right?
This is how we get it done.
[E] Like, ladies and gents, attention.
Nines in the house.
With BC boys, we can turn [F] it out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out. _ _
_ _ _ [Gm] _ [D] _ _ _ [G] _
_ _ [D] _ _ _ _ [N] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [D] _ _ _ [N] _ _
_ [Cm] _ _ _ [Db] _ [C] _ _ _
_ [D] _ _ _ [F] _ _ [C] [F] Mike check.
_ Mike check.
_ _ [E] One, two, three.
Any rapper that is still not enough MC's, it goes [E] three.
One, MCA, [Em] Ad-Rock, Mike D, that's how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and gents, attention.
Eyes in the house.
Hope these D-Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
[G] Like an X and six, corporate money, the proof's in the can.
Now, [N] it's time to get loose.
Use your ear goggles, put your feet in the air.
People like a scientist, get the proofs in the beaker.
Have [G] MC's over my house.
Let your bloods, let your babbles.
We going out, [N] going to dust.
Just have me destroyed.
I start swinging, just randomly chopping on a crazy ass mission.
Because I'm back with the bang boogie.
Oogie oogie.
Scrawl every letter, turn the green light, sluggy.
Oh my God, just look at me.
I've been rapping since I ate T3.
I'm [G] like [Ebm] supersonic like [D] J.J. Man.
Crazy ass [C] shit, wouldn't I go for a tartar [G] sauce, yo?
Because it's sad, all these crowd rappers, they're rapping like hounds.
I have carte blanche, the vagabond.
[Bb] Now I'm just a narcissist.
[Eb] My [F] pockets are open, trying to make [N] a killer.
Look at this, you a mobile.
You ain't a shot, a monster, or a drug [G] dealer.
A slug killer, you're not.
My feel so noble, you [N] ain't got the control in you.
But you know, I ain't trying to hear your racket.
You work with police, dog.
You snitch, you rat.
You wear that jacket.
How many rappers [Dm] must get dissed?
Give me eight balls and I'll be blessed.
This is such a reminiscence.
For real, hip [B] hop, bitch, [G] I can see it.
It's like, I'm in the heat [Eb] zone.
Movin' everything, those muscle balls and soup.
[N] Jagged, some truth, that's sure.
One foot, this is real.
Now see Nas, [E] what's the word?
Count it off on the hook.
Let's go.
One, two, three.
Too many rappers and there's still not enough [F] MCs.
It goes three, three, [E] two, one.
MCA, Ag, Rock, Black, D.
This how we get it [F] done.
Like, [E] ladies and dudes, attention.
Nas in the house.
Beastie Boys, we can turn it [F] out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out.
_ [Eb] _ [D] _ [Em] _ _ [Eb] _ [D] _ [Em] _
_ [B] _ [Bm] _ Nom, nom, [Eb] nom.
[D] _ [Em] _
_ [B] _ [Em] _ _ _ [Eb] _ [Em] _ _
[Eb] _ _ _ _ _ _ [G] This is the type of lyricals that satisfy your brain.
To play your bullshit, rap straight [C] out the bank.
The [E] lyrics spin round like a [G] hurricane, twist up.
It's a hologram on the office wall.
Let's go.
Too [E] many rappers to shake and stick that.
I order Judge Attacks, [N] but every week, whack.
I say listen to me, so that you can make a stack.
Stack records, I'm smart, he got a pack.
He's never coming back. _
Sorry, crap rappers and hackers.
[Bb] Insurgent vendors, [Db] slip on Splendor.
[Bb] I shake the cake, stole the mold.
They call the [Ab] microphone, well, that's [G] mine to hold.
And why all these miners all up in my crotch?
[E] Space shipping, [F] buffing, huffing.
And me and Morgan with the blimpy [D] bluntons.
Come [G] talk me something, you ain't saying nothing.
I'm broader than Broadway.
I was the [Eb] Project Harvey.
Do-it-all, take the quarter.
[N] Lazy oratory of all day.
I'm just getting started on this beat.
This is foreplay.
And when the song's finished, I can sing along with it.
By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louis Times peppers.
I hear Russian blinds are wetter.
But anyway, I better pay homage to my fellas.
And that's what's on my mind.
And, [G] Ron, who's next up?
My name's old man of mystery.
History in the [N] making.
And now we're drinking.
Titles, awards, and accolades.
Here's a [E] competition as I sharpen [Dbm] my blades.
We come [Bb] together like peanut butter and sandwiches.
Like peanut people and pasta [D] with penises.
[G]
Rocking stadiums to shitty falls.
Going back in time, send the facts from my [E] car.
One, two, three.
So many rappers, and it's still not enough MCs.
[F] It goes [E] three, two, one.
MCA at rock, right?
This is how we get it done.
[E] Like, ladies and gents, attention.
Nines in the house.
With BC boys, we can turn [F] it out.
[E] Perpetrators, we can point them out.
So if you got something on your mind, let it out. _ _