Chords for It Ain't Nuttin'
Tempo:
81.65 bpm
Chords used:
G
Bb
Gm
Eb
Ab
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Jam Along & Learn...
He's a shady character.
Now let me see.
It ain't nothing like
[Eb] [Gm] It ain't nothing like a fist full of cash or a place full of the hash that twists like a moustache.
bash.
down a hundred thousand pounds.
ashy day, fam.
-Aid, Soleil, [G] bullets and a tropade.
Now let me see.
It ain't nothing like
[Eb] [Gm] It ain't nothing like a fist full of cash or a place full of the hash that twists like a moustache.
bash.
down a hundred thousand pounds.
ashy day, fam.
-Aid, Soleil, [G] bullets and a tropade.
100% ➙ 82BPM
G
Bb
Gm
Eb
Ab
G
Bb
Gm
He's a shady character.
What's his name?
Oh, wait now.
Got his card here.
Yeah, I got it in my pocket.
Now let me see.
Oh yeah, here it is.
Doom.
_ I see.
It ain't nothing like_
[Bb] _ Hip-Hop Music.
_ [Eb] _ [Gm] It ain't nothing like a fist full of cash or a place full of the hash that twists like a moustache.
And in the end, you spread it like a rash.
You're talking through your walkman or at your disco bash.
Give me the tin drum with steel-skinned brown.
A metal face mask with a built-in frown.
A mic that tilt down a hundred thousand pounds.
And see how kilts out like smoked milk clown.
Cocoa butter on a very ashy day, fam.
Ray-Ban out on the islands of Cayman.
Oh, I'll break it down for the late man.
Band-Aid, Soleil, [G] bullets and a tropade.
Tan, a can of old gold.
Too cold to hold.
[B] Slow your roll.
Keep on moving like soul [G] to soul.
Hold it dope like a food store video.
Trying to go up [Ab] against city or a kiddie [Gm] ball.
The black [Gb] mic is like a red violin.
[G] Okay, everybody back to the lab.
[Dm] Try again.
Rap game like rioting.
[Gm] Leave bad taste killing my high like niacin.
Stop kidding.
Middlemen need riddling.
Hit [Bb] me with the full ten and ten and I'm a kid again.
Keep the bong lighting straight through the songwriting.
The super villain, aka, Thorpe Bighton is a light knob.
Full of reciting that's dope and raw.
Open all y'all.
Come in peace and it's open bar.
Tear the roof off this rumba-raz-clop.
By the end of the night, [Gm] spaz like Sazbat.
Spill to see the light.
The big [Cm] shot made the pen lines money.
[Bb] A ill plot ten times Ben Stein money.
Funny how he ripped the scripts with [Gm] a straight face.
With more rhymes than his lines in your database.
Play some rappers in endangerment who reckless.
With this food for thought, sort of like breakfast.
Who mark it off as wreck on a checklist.
Wear gold [G] fronts, can't afford no necklace.
So that's in.
[Bb] Go to help build them daycares.
Somebody say yeah.
Pay your [A] fares.
Give the herbalizers their [G] shares.
And y'all can pay doom and fears. _
_ [D] _ _ _ _ _ [Bb] _ _
_ [Eb] _ _ _ _ _ Doom.
_ [G] _ _ _ [Bb] _ _ _ _
_ [Eb] _ _ Doom.
Doom. Doom. Doom.
OK Mister Doom.
OK.
_ _ Help them to send a platform over here.
To pick up green threads.
_ _ Next time these boys
come in contact with anything hot.
It'll be the chair [G] in the death house of the state [Eb] prison. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [Ab] _ _ _
What's his name?
Oh, wait now.
Got his card here.
Yeah, I got it in my pocket.
Now let me see.
Oh yeah, here it is.
Doom.
_ I see.
It ain't nothing like_
[Bb] _ Hip-Hop Music.
_ [Eb] _ [Gm] It ain't nothing like a fist full of cash or a place full of the hash that twists like a moustache.
And in the end, you spread it like a rash.
You're talking through your walkman or at your disco bash.
Give me the tin drum with steel-skinned brown.
A metal face mask with a built-in frown.
A mic that tilt down a hundred thousand pounds.
And see how kilts out like smoked milk clown.
Cocoa butter on a very ashy day, fam.
Ray-Ban out on the islands of Cayman.
Oh, I'll break it down for the late man.
Band-Aid, Soleil, [G] bullets and a tropade.
Tan, a can of old gold.
Too cold to hold.
[B] Slow your roll.
Keep on moving like soul [G] to soul.
Hold it dope like a food store video.
Trying to go up [Ab] against city or a kiddie [Gm] ball.
The black [Gb] mic is like a red violin.
[G] Okay, everybody back to the lab.
[Dm] Try again.
Rap game like rioting.
[Gm] Leave bad taste killing my high like niacin.
Stop kidding.
Middlemen need riddling.
Hit [Bb] me with the full ten and ten and I'm a kid again.
Keep the bong lighting straight through the songwriting.
The super villain, aka, Thorpe Bighton is a light knob.
Full of reciting that's dope and raw.
Open all y'all.
Come in peace and it's open bar.
Tear the roof off this rumba-raz-clop.
By the end of the night, [Gm] spaz like Sazbat.
Spill to see the light.
The big [Cm] shot made the pen lines money.
[Bb] A ill plot ten times Ben Stein money.
Funny how he ripped the scripts with [Gm] a straight face.
With more rhymes than his lines in your database.
Play some rappers in endangerment who reckless.
With this food for thought, sort of like breakfast.
Who mark it off as wreck on a checklist.
Wear gold [G] fronts, can't afford no necklace.
So that's in.
[Bb] Go to help build them daycares.
Somebody say yeah.
Pay your [A] fares.
Give the herbalizers their [G] shares.
And y'all can pay doom and fears. _
_ [D] _ _ _ _ _ [Bb] _ _
_ [Eb] _ _ _ _ _ Doom.
_ [G] _ _ _ [Bb] _ _ _ _
_ [Eb] _ _ Doom.
Doom. Doom. Doom.
OK Mister Doom.
OK.
_ _ Help them to send a platform over here.
To pick up green threads.
_ _ Next time these boys
come in contact with anything hot.
It'll be the chair [G] in the death house of the state [Eb] prison. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [Ab] _ _ _