Chords for Gemstones - Circles music video - Christian Rap
Tempo:
98 bpm
Chords used:
G#m
E
F#
C#m
B
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[G#m] He's stunting in his [F#] robin jeans, [G#m] said true religion's played [E] out.
The cries of his mother screams, [C#m] he's on the ground [G#m] laid out.
The child is only [F#] 17, ambulance sound like they [E] in route.
His uncle's steady saying breathe, [C#m] but shorty's steady [G#m] passing out.
Claiming that his [F#] back's thing, [B] because the way his [E] back's louched.
He knows he's on his last wing, [C#m] finally say his [G#m] last ouch.
Pants hanging to [F#] his knees, [B] blood running from [E] his mouth.
Pistol in his back pocket, [A#] he never got the chance to [G#m] pull it out.
Granny's screaming Lord, [B] please.
She still sees him as a [E] boy scout.
She never knew that he was one of these.
He lived a life she never knew [G#m] about.
The families that he [F#] made grieve, [B] the women that he's [E] dogged out.
The child that used to rake leaves, he's headed to the [G#m] morgue now.
I pray to God he make it through them [B] gates.
The Bible says it's based upon your faith, they [E] raise us to be aides.
You pray if you don't grow up for your survival, and
half of us ain't [C#m] never gonna escape.
Through [G#m] all of it I smile, cuz I know I'm only standing here by [B] grace.
Today I stare the devil in his face, no [E] longer in denial.
I know the gift I got is God given, too talented to [A#] let it go to waste.
The [G#m] coffin holds the child, a seven minute shootout at his [F#] wake.
The parents need an [B] exit to escape, they [E] running through the aisles.
Time to pull another black suit out, they shot a pregnant mother in the [C#m] face.
The [G#m] thought of it is wild, seven shot but only took [F#] two out.
Pleasant scene that [B] never left a trace, it never went to [E] trial.
It's murder season, especially when [G#m] school out.
It hurt to see this happen to my race.
Maybe it's in the water, maybe it's in [F#] the weed.
Maybe it's some kind of disorder that's within [E] the sea.
Let's rectify the horror, they petrified to read.
Their minds are out of order, they lacking what [G#m] they need.
They dying right before us, detectives [F#m] catching leads.
They mothers lying for them, they justify [E] their deeds.
They out here dying for it, they so caught up in greed.
They bound to rob [C#m] you for it, give it up [G#m] or bleed.
My tongue's an iron sword, I give them what [F#] they need.
These children minds [G#m] are bored, if only they [E] were heed.
Caught up in time, Lord.
Louis Vuitton jeans, [G#m] Adroit and Concord.
I take a pair of threes, they in the time, boy.
You think it's [F#] palm trees, give them a [B] sign, Lord.
They such a [E] young breed, renew their minds, Lord.
They letting [C#m] guns weed, these bullets blind, Lord.
They hitting the [G#m] wrong seeds, they out they minds, Lord.
It's if they [F#] don't bleed, must be the [G#m] crown, Lord.
Must be the [E] strong weed, must be them lines, Lord.
Must be the codeine that makes the mind force [G#m] move at a slow speed.
[C#m] [E]
[C#m] [G#m]
[F#m] [E]
[G#m]
[E]
[C#m] [G#m]
[C#m]
The cries of his mother screams, [C#m] he's on the ground [G#m] laid out.
The child is only [F#] 17, ambulance sound like they [E] in route.
His uncle's steady saying breathe, [C#m] but shorty's steady [G#m] passing out.
Claiming that his [F#] back's thing, [B] because the way his [E] back's louched.
He knows he's on his last wing, [C#m] finally say his [G#m] last ouch.
Pants hanging to [F#] his knees, [B] blood running from [E] his mouth.
Pistol in his back pocket, [A#] he never got the chance to [G#m] pull it out.
Granny's screaming Lord, [B] please.
She still sees him as a [E] boy scout.
She never knew that he was one of these.
He lived a life she never knew [G#m] about.
The families that he [F#] made grieve, [B] the women that he's [E] dogged out.
The child that used to rake leaves, he's headed to the [G#m] morgue now.
I pray to God he make it through them [B] gates.
The Bible says it's based upon your faith, they [E] raise us to be aides.
You pray if you don't grow up for your survival, and
half of us ain't [C#m] never gonna escape.
Through [G#m] all of it I smile, cuz I know I'm only standing here by [B] grace.
Today I stare the devil in his face, no [E] longer in denial.
I know the gift I got is God given, too talented to [A#] let it go to waste.
The [G#m] coffin holds the child, a seven minute shootout at his [F#] wake.
The parents need an [B] exit to escape, they [E] running through the aisles.
Time to pull another black suit out, they shot a pregnant mother in the [C#m] face.
The [G#m] thought of it is wild, seven shot but only took [F#] two out.
Pleasant scene that [B] never left a trace, it never went to [E] trial.
It's murder season, especially when [G#m] school out.
It hurt to see this happen to my race.
Maybe it's in the water, maybe it's in [F#] the weed.
Maybe it's some kind of disorder that's within [E] the sea.
Let's rectify the horror, they petrified to read.
Their minds are out of order, they lacking what [G#m] they need.
They dying right before us, detectives [F#m] catching leads.
They mothers lying for them, they justify [E] their deeds.
They out here dying for it, they so caught up in greed.
They bound to rob [C#m] you for it, give it up [G#m] or bleed.
My tongue's an iron sword, I give them what [F#] they need.
These children minds [G#m] are bored, if only they [E] were heed.
Caught up in time, Lord.
Louis Vuitton jeans, [G#m] Adroit and Concord.
I take a pair of threes, they in the time, boy.
You think it's [F#] palm trees, give them a [B] sign, Lord.
They such a [E] young breed, renew their minds, Lord.
They letting [C#m] guns weed, these bullets blind, Lord.
They hitting the [G#m] wrong seeds, they out they minds, Lord.
It's if they [F#] don't bleed, must be the [G#m] crown, Lord.
Must be the [E] strong weed, must be them lines, Lord.
Must be the codeine that makes the mind force [G#m] move at a slow speed.
[C#m] [E]
[C#m] [G#m]
[F#m] [E]
[G#m]
[E]
[C#m] [G#m]
[C#m]
Key:
G#m
E
F#
C#m
B
G#m
E
F#
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [G#m] _ _ He's stunting in his [F#] robin jeans, [G#m] said true religion's played [E] out.
The cries of his mother screams, [C#m] he's on the ground [G#m] laid out.
The child is only [F#] 17, ambulance sound like they [E] in route.
His uncle's steady saying breathe, [C#m] but shorty's steady [G#m] passing out.
_ Claiming that his [F#] back's thing, [B] because the way his [E] back's louched.
He knows he's on his last wing, _ [C#m] finally say his [G#m] last ouch.
_ Pants hanging to [F#] his knees, _ [B] blood running from [E] his mouth.
_ Pistol in his back pocket, [A#] he never got the chance to [G#m] pull it out.
_ Granny's screaming Lord, [B] please.
She still sees him as a [E] boy scout.
She never knew that he was one of these.
He lived a life she never knew [G#m] about.
The families that he [F#] made grieve, [B] the women that he's [E] dogged out.
The child that used to rake leaves, he's headed to the [G#m] morgue now.
I pray to God he make it through them [B] gates.
The Bible says it's based upon your faith, they [E] raise us to be aides.
You pray if you don't grow up for your survival, and
half of us ain't [C#m] never gonna escape.
Through [G#m] all of it I smile, cuz I know I'm only standing here by [B] grace.
Today I stare the devil in his face, no [E] longer in denial.
I know the gift I got is God given, too talented to [A#] let it go to waste.
The [G#m] coffin holds the child, a seven minute shootout at his [F#] wake.
The parents need an [B] exit to escape, they [E] running through the aisles.
Time to pull another black suit out, they shot a pregnant mother in the [C#m] face.
The [G#m] thought of it is wild, seven shot but only took [F#] two out.
Pleasant scene that [B] never left a trace, it never went to [E] trial.
It's murder season, especially when [G#m] school out.
It hurt to see this happen to my race.
Maybe it's in the water, maybe it's in [F#] the weed.
Maybe it's some kind of disorder that's within [E] the sea.
Let's rectify the horror, they petrified to read.
Their minds are out of order, they lacking what [G#m] they need.
They dying right before us, detectives [F#m] catching leads.
They mothers lying for them, they justify [E] their deeds.
They out here dying for it, they so caught up in greed.
They bound to rob [C#m] you for it, give it up [G#m] or bleed.
My tongue's an iron sword, I give them what [F#] they need.
These children minds [G#m] are bored, if only they [E] were heed.
Caught up in time, Lord.
Louis Vuitton jeans, [G#m] Adroit and Concord.
I take a pair of threes, they in the time, boy.
You think it's [F#] palm trees, give them a [B] sign, Lord.
They such a [E] young breed, renew their minds, Lord.
They letting [C#m] guns weed, these bullets blind, Lord.
They hitting the [G#m] wrong seeds, they out they minds, Lord.
It's if they [F#] don't bleed, must be the [G#m] crown, Lord.
Must be the [E] strong weed, must be them lines, Lord.
Must be the codeine that makes the mind force [G#m] move at a slow speed. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#m] _ _ [E] _ _
_ _ _ [C#m] _ [G#m] _ _ _ _
[F#m] _ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [G#m] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _
_ _ [C#m] _ _ _ [G#m] _ _ _
_ [C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [G#m] _ _ He's stunting in his [F#] robin jeans, [G#m] said true religion's played [E] out.
The cries of his mother screams, [C#m] he's on the ground [G#m] laid out.
The child is only [F#] 17, ambulance sound like they [E] in route.
His uncle's steady saying breathe, [C#m] but shorty's steady [G#m] passing out.
_ Claiming that his [F#] back's thing, [B] because the way his [E] back's louched.
He knows he's on his last wing, _ [C#m] finally say his [G#m] last ouch.
_ Pants hanging to [F#] his knees, _ [B] blood running from [E] his mouth.
_ Pistol in his back pocket, [A#] he never got the chance to [G#m] pull it out.
_ Granny's screaming Lord, [B] please.
She still sees him as a [E] boy scout.
She never knew that he was one of these.
He lived a life she never knew [G#m] about.
The families that he [F#] made grieve, [B] the women that he's [E] dogged out.
The child that used to rake leaves, he's headed to the [G#m] morgue now.
I pray to God he make it through them [B] gates.
The Bible says it's based upon your faith, they [E] raise us to be aides.
You pray if you don't grow up for your survival, and
half of us ain't [C#m] never gonna escape.
Through [G#m] all of it I smile, cuz I know I'm only standing here by [B] grace.
Today I stare the devil in his face, no [E] longer in denial.
I know the gift I got is God given, too talented to [A#] let it go to waste.
The [G#m] coffin holds the child, a seven minute shootout at his [F#] wake.
The parents need an [B] exit to escape, they [E] running through the aisles.
Time to pull another black suit out, they shot a pregnant mother in the [C#m] face.
The [G#m] thought of it is wild, seven shot but only took [F#] two out.
Pleasant scene that [B] never left a trace, it never went to [E] trial.
It's murder season, especially when [G#m] school out.
It hurt to see this happen to my race.
Maybe it's in the water, maybe it's in [F#] the weed.
Maybe it's some kind of disorder that's within [E] the sea.
Let's rectify the horror, they petrified to read.
Their minds are out of order, they lacking what [G#m] they need.
They dying right before us, detectives [F#m] catching leads.
They mothers lying for them, they justify [E] their deeds.
They out here dying for it, they so caught up in greed.
They bound to rob [C#m] you for it, give it up [G#m] or bleed.
My tongue's an iron sword, I give them what [F#] they need.
These children minds [G#m] are bored, if only they [E] were heed.
Caught up in time, Lord.
Louis Vuitton jeans, [G#m] Adroit and Concord.
I take a pair of threes, they in the time, boy.
You think it's [F#] palm trees, give them a [B] sign, Lord.
They such a [E] young breed, renew their minds, Lord.
They letting [C#m] guns weed, these bullets blind, Lord.
They hitting the [G#m] wrong seeds, they out they minds, Lord.
It's if they [F#] don't bleed, must be the [G#m] crown, Lord.
Must be the [E] strong weed, must be them lines, Lord.
Must be the codeine that makes the mind force [G#m] move at a slow speed. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [C#m] _ _ [E] _ _
_ _ _ [C#m] _ [G#m] _ _ _ _
[F#m] _ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [G#m] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _ _ _
_ _ [C#m] _ _ _ [G#m] _ _ _
_ [C#m] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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