Chords for G Fellas - Danger Zone

[Em] I'm just gonna say it again, yeah
The only [Bm] miss motherfucker
[Em] Chicano Gambino Pica Por vida
_ Motherfuckers
Now we gon' separate the group
Who got the heat?
We got the heat
Tone tree give me a sick beat
I smell defeat, dismiss
Give me the chips, I make a bet Chicano Gambino
That's my scent, where you at?
They call me Nino
Who on the scrap, you on the rap?
I heard the demo, that shit was whack
Watch your back, you're getting jacked
And gettin' stiff, this ain't no joke
Take [Bm] a toke, I'm blowin' [Em] smoke
Nino Brown, watch your back
These fools tryin' to crit
We in this gangsta rap shit Knee deep
You got my back and I got yours
You got a AK [Bb] and I got a .44
You rollin' in the Tahoe, I'm rollin' in the Caddy
You workin' out every day, I'm puffin' on the fatty
Bon Bon, these fools that don't know
You make money [B] fast and you live life slow
[Em] Now who's the baddest?
Check the status, don't slick
Remember, I'm too slick and too sick
It's that original criminal from white, black OGs
Around me, the family
Bet I got a new trick up my sleeve
So don't I make you sick like dry heave
Say please, walk my boy, that's Spanish
Understand it, we comin' with this shit doin' damage
You overdid it all, you sure the thinkers all
You with them east side of straight riders
You overdid it all, you sure the thinkers all
You with them east side of straight riders
Blacks, African, corrupt, Dre and Snoop
Cuban, Mac, Tambourine, two Mexicans
Slow rain and Pignino, Chicano, Gambino
Metal, metal, money, [E] Steelo, Stack of C-Notes
Studio, hijack, platinum, Phil
First contact, million [A] dollar combat
Catch [Em] me in the limo, throwin' up G-spot
Exploding there, sport a $50,000 Cartier
I see somebody panic, they're getting frantic
Aw, damn it, I heard somebody crack a joke
They're getting smoked, who on the fuck with these?
Don't do it, you can't do it
Plus I'm on my third, fifth of the fluid
They want a test, homie, get the vest
In the Smith of West, Lil' Rookie, take your last breath
I smell a rat, wait, yeah, I get the strap
Got him on the stove, boom, top
Why you rappin' just to pay your rent?
I'm showin' in the bank with my dead presidents
It makes no sense, homie, whatever what you mean
Fool, I'm a true money fiend, sticky green
Pounds and birds, it's triple beans
Bahamas for a month, [Am] then we hit the Keys
Now you could [Em] be a dream rapper on the [E] microphone
My finger on the trigger, now you in the [Em] zone _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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