Chords for Roc Marciano "Slingers" feat Knowledge The Pirate (Official Music Video)
Tempo:
91.95 bpm
Chords used:
F#m
Bm
B
E
F#
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Jam Along & Learn...
I like what I'm doing right now.
I enjoy [F#m] collecting protection muscle, putting [E] horse to work, long [F#m] sharpen.
These are a few of my favorite things.
Come fuck with me.
Shit, pirate, let's shit, yo.
Come take a walk on my side, the dark side.
Where niggas do walk-bys and drive-bys.
On them corners slinging bean pies, no bow ties.
Mayweather fight, sitting ringside.
This is [E] where the killers reside, [F#m] the drug dealers collide, and Martin Luther King's dream died.
Son was 15 [B] and copped a [F#m] green 5.
By 16 moved out the projects to the east side.
Moved to the upper east side and leased the high rise.
Son [F#] was young and fly with mob [Bm] ties.
Uh.
Full of sweat, suit, feline.
Waves spinning like a beehive.
Uh.
Hopped out the X6, jumped in a G5.
The drop off from pies and the [F#m] projects on the west side.
Uh.
Son was a Jesus, knee high.
4'5", stuffed in his Levi's.
My evidence was CSI.
Investigated by homicide.
Wanted by the FBI.
And the murder of a CI who never did testify.
So it fucked with their case when they found him slumped in a trunk, shot in the face.
[B] Fuckin' [F#m] have some questions for me.
You know what happens.
[B] [F#m]
Come check this walk down these blocks with coke dope and weed spots.
Guns cocked, [Bm] ready to squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling free stop.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoe box.
You take a walk down these blocks.
I'm not [G#m] a flapper, I'm a slinger.
[F#m] Sapphire on the finger, cribbing Antigua.
Uh.
My trigger man wears Sheetal.
Sicilian, not a square like a square pizza.
My bitch glad I'm a rare creature.
Dippin' police, tear sneaker.
My niggas hold heat like a fever.
Them heads all downhill like a steer.
Line the whips up, talking to Siri in the A-series.
With Katie in her fake titties.
Sipping Remy on the rocks.
[F#] Montclair when the air's [F#m] chilly.
We're playing Willie, got jammed out in Philly.
Split him open like a Philly.
Feel the fury, find you in the trunk of Missouri.
All [Bm] smelly.
Solicitor of flesh, ridiculous sex.
A heavy pistol in the Mitchell and Ness.
Spit the best, be more Twitter-less.
Triple X, two flex.
Off the roof, [F#m] my mama juice head.
[F#m] The goop's rad.
The crew still moves from my tool shed.
Uh.
This is truth, not bullet.
Deuce deuce is in the boot by the lad.
Flop shoehead [E] spread.
[F#m] Lunch wonder bread is under the bed.
Plus a couple in the duffel bag.
Uh.
Take [B] a better look, [F#m] peddling cook.
Feen shooting heroin in the foot.
Still play it by the book.
Great tops bottled up.
The hood swallows up.
What the fuck?
Fuck.
Not in.
Fuck out.
Fuck up.
[Bm] Shit's all about it in there.
You miss out here, nigga.
All you niggas know how to do is hustle, nigga.
Niggas ain't take no fucking cops for [F#m] cronies.
Come take a walk down these blocks.
We coke-dope in weed spots.
Guns cocked, ready to [Bm] squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling freestyle.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoebox.
Come take a walk down [F#m] these blocks.
[N]
I enjoy [F#m] collecting protection muscle, putting [E] horse to work, long [F#m] sharpen.
These are a few of my favorite things.
Come fuck with me.
Shit, pirate, let's shit, yo.
Come take a walk on my side, the dark side.
Where niggas do walk-bys and drive-bys.
On them corners slinging bean pies, no bow ties.
Mayweather fight, sitting ringside.
This is [E] where the killers reside, [F#m] the drug dealers collide, and Martin Luther King's dream died.
Son was 15 [B] and copped a [F#m] green 5.
By 16 moved out the projects to the east side.
Moved to the upper east side and leased the high rise.
Son [F#] was young and fly with mob [Bm] ties.
Uh.
Full of sweat, suit, feline.
Waves spinning like a beehive.
Uh.
Hopped out the X6, jumped in a G5.
The drop off from pies and the [F#m] projects on the west side.
Uh.
Son was a Jesus, knee high.
4'5", stuffed in his Levi's.
My evidence was CSI.
Investigated by homicide.
Wanted by the FBI.
And the murder of a CI who never did testify.
So it fucked with their case when they found him slumped in a trunk, shot in the face.
[B] Fuckin' [F#m] have some questions for me.
You know what happens.
[B] [F#m]
Come check this walk down these blocks with coke dope and weed spots.
Guns cocked, [Bm] ready to squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling free stop.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoe box.
You take a walk down these blocks.
I'm not [G#m] a flapper, I'm a slinger.
[F#m] Sapphire on the finger, cribbing Antigua.
Uh.
My trigger man wears Sheetal.
Sicilian, not a square like a square pizza.
My bitch glad I'm a rare creature.
Dippin' police, tear sneaker.
My niggas hold heat like a fever.
Them heads all downhill like a steer.
Line the whips up, talking to Siri in the A-series.
With Katie in her fake titties.
Sipping Remy on the rocks.
[F#] Montclair when the air's [F#m] chilly.
We're playing Willie, got jammed out in Philly.
Split him open like a Philly.
Feel the fury, find you in the trunk of Missouri.
All [Bm] smelly.
Solicitor of flesh, ridiculous sex.
A heavy pistol in the Mitchell and Ness.
Spit the best, be more Twitter-less.
Triple X, two flex.
Off the roof, [F#m] my mama juice head.
[F#m] The goop's rad.
The crew still moves from my tool shed.
Uh.
This is truth, not bullet.
Deuce deuce is in the boot by the lad.
Flop shoehead [E] spread.
[F#m] Lunch wonder bread is under the bed.
Plus a couple in the duffel bag.
Uh.
Take [B] a better look, [F#m] peddling cook.
Feen shooting heroin in the foot.
Still play it by the book.
Great tops bottled up.
The hood swallows up.
What the fuck?
Fuck.
Not in.
Fuck out.
Fuck up.
[Bm] Shit's all about it in there.
You miss out here, nigga.
All you niggas know how to do is hustle, nigga.
Niggas ain't take no fucking cops for [F#m] cronies.
Come take a walk down these blocks.
We coke-dope in weed spots.
Guns cocked, ready to [Bm] squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling freestyle.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoebox.
Come take a walk down [F#m] these blocks.
[N]
100% ➙ 92BPM
F#m
Bm
B
E
F#
F#m
Bm
B
_ _ I like what I'm doing right now.
I enjoy [F#m] collecting protection muscle, putting [E] horse to work, long [F#m] sharpen.
These are a few of my favorite things. _
Come fuck with me.
Shit, pirate, let's shit, yo.
Come take a walk on my side, the dark side.
Where niggas do walk-bys and drive-bys.
On them corners slinging bean pies, no bow ties.
Mayweather fight, sitting ringside.
This is [E] where the killers reside, [F#m] the drug dealers collide, and Martin Luther King's dream died.
Son was 15 [B] and copped a [F#m] green 5.
By 16 moved out the projects to the east side.
Moved to the upper east side and leased the high rise.
Son [F#] was young and fly with mob [Bm] ties.
Uh.
Full of sweat, suit, feline.
Waves spinning like a beehive.
Uh.
Hopped out the X6, jumped in a G5.
The drop off from pies and the [F#m] projects on the west side.
Uh.
Son was a Jesus, knee high.
4'5", stuffed in his Levi's.
My evidence was CSI.
Investigated by homicide.
_ Wanted by the FBI.
And the murder of a CI who never did testify.
So it fucked with their case when they found him slumped in a trunk, shot in the face.
_ [B] Fuckin' [F#m] have some questions for me. _
You know what happens.
[B] _ [F#m] _ _ _ _
Come check this walk down these blocks with coke dope and weed spots.
Guns cocked, [Bm] ready to squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling free stop.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoe box.
You take a walk down these blocks.
I'm not [G#m] a flapper, I'm a slinger.
[F#m] Sapphire on the finger, cribbing Antigua.
Uh.
My trigger man wears Sheetal.
Sicilian, not a square like a square pizza.
My bitch glad I'm a rare creature.
Dippin' police, tear sneaker.
My niggas hold heat like a fever.
Them heads all downhill like a steer.
Line the whips up, talking to Siri in the A-series.
With Katie in her fake titties.
Sipping Remy on the rocks.
[F#] Montclair when the air's [F#m] chilly.
We're playing Willie, got jammed out in Philly.
Split him open like a Philly.
Feel the fury, find you in the trunk of Missouri.
All [Bm] smelly.
Solicitor of flesh, ridiculous sex.
A heavy pistol in the Mitchell and Ness.
Spit the best, be more Twitter-less.
Triple X, two flex.
Off the roof, [F#m] my mama juice head.
[F#m] The goop's rad.
The crew still moves from my tool shed.
Uh.
This is truth, not bullet.
Deuce deuce is in the boot by the lad.
Flop shoehead [E] spread.
[F#m] Lunch wonder bread is under the bed.
Plus a couple in the duffel bag.
Uh.
Take [B] a better look, [F#m] peddling cook.
Feen shooting heroin in the foot.
Still play it by the book.
Great tops bottled up.
The hood swallows up.
What the fuck?
Fuck.
_ Not in.
Fuck out.
_ _ Fuck up. _ _
_ [Bm] _ Shit's all about it in there. _
You miss out here, nigga.
All you niggas know how to do is hustle, nigga.
Niggas ain't take no fucking cops for [F#m] cronies.
Come take a walk down these blocks.
We coke-dope in weed spots.
Guns cocked, ready to [Bm] squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling freestyle.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoebox.
Come take a walk down [F#m] these blocks. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _
I enjoy [F#m] collecting protection muscle, putting [E] horse to work, long [F#m] sharpen.
These are a few of my favorite things. _
Come fuck with me.
Shit, pirate, let's shit, yo.
Come take a walk on my side, the dark side.
Where niggas do walk-bys and drive-bys.
On them corners slinging bean pies, no bow ties.
Mayweather fight, sitting ringside.
This is [E] where the killers reside, [F#m] the drug dealers collide, and Martin Luther King's dream died.
Son was 15 [B] and copped a [F#m] green 5.
By 16 moved out the projects to the east side.
Moved to the upper east side and leased the high rise.
Son [F#] was young and fly with mob [Bm] ties.
Uh.
Full of sweat, suit, feline.
Waves spinning like a beehive.
Uh.
Hopped out the X6, jumped in a G5.
The drop off from pies and the [F#m] projects on the west side.
Uh.
Son was a Jesus, knee high.
4'5", stuffed in his Levi's.
My evidence was CSI.
Investigated by homicide.
_ Wanted by the FBI.
And the murder of a CI who never did testify.
So it fucked with their case when they found him slumped in a trunk, shot in the face.
_ [B] Fuckin' [F#m] have some questions for me. _
You know what happens.
[B] _ [F#m] _ _ _ _
Come check this walk down these blocks with coke dope and weed spots.
Guns cocked, [Bm] ready to squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling free stop.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoe box.
You take a walk down these blocks.
I'm not [G#m] a flapper, I'm a slinger.
[F#m] Sapphire on the finger, cribbing Antigua.
Uh.
My trigger man wears Sheetal.
Sicilian, not a square like a square pizza.
My bitch glad I'm a rare creature.
Dippin' police, tear sneaker.
My niggas hold heat like a fever.
Them heads all downhill like a steer.
Line the whips up, talking to Siri in the A-series.
With Katie in her fake titties.
Sipping Remy on the rocks.
[F#] Montclair when the air's [F#m] chilly.
We're playing Willie, got jammed out in Philly.
Split him open like a Philly.
Feel the fury, find you in the trunk of Missouri.
All [Bm] smelly.
Solicitor of flesh, ridiculous sex.
A heavy pistol in the Mitchell and Ness.
Spit the best, be more Twitter-less.
Triple X, two flex.
Off the roof, [F#m] my mama juice head.
[F#m] The goop's rad.
The crew still moves from my tool shed.
Uh.
This is truth, not bullet.
Deuce deuce is in the boot by the lad.
Flop shoehead [E] spread.
[F#m] Lunch wonder bread is under the bed.
Plus a couple in the duffel bag.
Uh.
Take [B] a better look, [F#m] peddling cook.
Feen shooting heroin in the foot.
Still play it by the book.
Great tops bottled up.
The hood swallows up.
What the fuck?
Fuck.
_ Not in.
Fuck out.
_ _ Fuck up. _ _
_ [Bm] _ Shit's all about it in there. _
You miss out here, nigga.
All you niggas know how to do is hustle, nigga.
Niggas ain't take no fucking cops for [F#m] cronies.
Come take a walk down these blocks.
We coke-dope in weed spots.
Guns cocked, ready to [Bm] squeeze hot.
Uh.
D's hopping out yelling freestyle.
Gunshots from off the rooftop.
Uh.
Murder plots for that money that's in the shoebox.
Come take a walk down [F#m] these blocks. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [N] _