Emerica Chords

Lyrics & chords

[Verse 1]
[Am][Newsman]
Extra, extra
Extra, extra
Hear all about it
Ja Rule has just been
elected the President...
Of the united ghetto's of Emerica
[C]And [Am]this is what he had to
say at presstime
At press time this is what [C]Ja Rule
had to [Am]say[E]
[Am]America...[C]
[Am][Chorus 2X: Ja Rule] Welcome

[Verse 2]
[Am]
to Emerica
(Don't hate me) 'cause I done made
this world what it's gon be
Welcome [C]to [Am]Emerica
(Don't hate me) 'cause I done made
this world [C]what it's done to [Am]me

[Verse 3]
[Ja Rule] [Am]Niggaz, if I
could pledge my allegiance to the,
United Ghettoes
of the Emerica, go on sell ya drugs
Cuttin taxes for strippers and thugs
It's all good, room [C]for mayor in
all hood and [Am]as well I should
I make it publicly desmist understood
When they caught me gettin high
in the back of the ho- tel
Was you freakin them ho's?
Well, I just say I was gettin
a lil head but [C]so what
Bill and [Am]Hillery stay for them stills
That's a down ass bitch for ya
Wash em with some soap
and water
And return them dirty bra's to their
rightful owner
Now that's creep shit
One over one,
I got [C]this broad on the one- o- one
[Am]She's botherin,
so don't even come up in here
'cause she's contious, no nonsense
She like to choke on the dick,
and the lungs on the constant
Gettin the W1's you church
girl
[C]Proda stant, it's aiight ma
you rollin wit [Am]the Inc.
[Chorus]

[Verse 4]
[Young Life] [Am]Yeah
[C]I'm[Am]
[C][Am]
here can you tell?
Mo' niggaz livin, livin in
?? in Emerica
I'm never gonna feel,
Nigga I'm tellin ya
Young Life is a compeditor
And is into real my
[C]niggaz headed up hill
I'm lettin you [Am]know shit's real
I came into the game copped a deal
Aimin to get this shit still
It ain't been a minute I ain't been high
And I haven't handled my business
How I been fuckin you bitches right
Yeah you witnesses my life
[C]Im perial night,
in [Am]the ghetto holdin my medal tight
Still, in Emerica
Remilitary is terror nigga holds his medal
Of his never be availible
That easy I'm a editor,
restin up with the [D]best of em
Mind[Am]s of them bitches that
stress givin em hard sex
I'm set for life,
the lightin ho's that write
And hit the mic, not over night
You get the gift to be the best
of something like
(Enough in Emerica) Young Life
is comin home
Motherfuckers prepare to
die
[C][Am]

[Verse 5]
[Chorus]
[Chink Santana]
Niggaz hit [E]that[Am]
[C][Am]
crack houses hustlers and hoes
No youngins up on the corners
nigga smokin them bones
I'm rattin away wit knots comin up,
what's no pills?
That's why they'll [C]find your ass
slumped in [Am]the blacks of ville
But still, I spot that paper Jo,
Blowin my weed
And ain't a thing a mother
need is gotta be me
But now days these lil youngins rollin on E
And a nigga [C]that supplyin that
is [Am]who runs the streets
Now look, this ain't no crack day
I gotsa come up on the stash
and get back man
'cause I done witness all this shit
that they say them ho's do
Fuckin wit X,
like finger fuckin that [C]hot glock
While she [Am]swallow her tit
But real, there nigga want
his dick sucked?
Bitches is why bitches turn that rehold into
a intrick (It's pimp shit)
No limp dick, just a gangsta fuck
Why the murder [C]put some ma
[Am]jor bust biatch
[Chorus]

[Verse 6]
[Am]Welcome [C]to Emerica...

[Outro 1]
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[F][Am][E]
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[Am][E]
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[E][Am][C]
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[E][Am]
[E]
[Am][C]
[D][Am]
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