Chord & lyrics
Green Island chords and lyrics - REDMAN
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[Intro 1] [Am][D][E][D][Am] [D][E][Am][E] [D][E][D][Am][E][Am] [E] [Am] [E] [Am][E] [Am][E] [Am] [Verse 1] Motherfuck[E]in' ladies and gentleman My style's rugged like Timberland When I clock lyric then women give me [Am]more love than Wimbledon [E]My style flow local like New Jersey transit And I can't stand it And you'll need Teddy [Am]to unjam it when I cram it I'm [E]from N to the E W A R K Newark NJ got the AK When [Am]I wave bitch you better say [E]hey I'm a Kid From the Hall I got big balls to make your pussy [Am]walls dribble in my drawers Hey [E]boy this is the way the East coast swing it so bring it Man I told you ass Brown- er than [Am]James with the Sex Machine shit [E]I keep the chronic patrol on the road In case you're wondering why I keep my ism 'Cause I smoked [Am]everybody else's shit up My [E]style's the ultimate funk when I mic checka One two checka And I give effects to niggas with my [Am]Black and Decker So check the, [E]manuscript, man you flipped Put it down if you can't handle it Got a B- R- C- G, Blun[Am]t Rollers College Graduate I [E]got a degrees in Physics on how high I can get Then next I check how many niggas that can [Am]die from my Tec 'Cause the [E]N- E- W- A- R- K is where the niggas robbin' and stealin' And fuckin [Am]niggas everyday Now [E]Jersey's on max so pass the dutchie on the left hand side Hide the hidash, in case we [Am]cridash, in my ride So, [E]slide, before I call the medics You can bet bitch you couldn't get [Am]fly if you were FedEx Can [E]I, drop the funk on ya, run it on ya Strong as ammonia, smell it from here to Cali[Am]fornia [E]'Cause Reggie Noble dropped that cock named Noble at Sunoco I'm better than rice and beans when [Am]I rock you ocho to ocho My [E]music more underground than a kid at 300 XL Convertible, fuel- injected, that's why my style's well- respected I'm dope on the ridealz, so fidealz, on my didealz And chumps are wondering what two niggas dropped the [Am]funk[E] [Am][E] [Am][E] funk [Verse 2] Verbally you never heard [E]of me I smoke you third degrees And cause surgery for emergency [Am]'Cause Reggie Noble's known like [E]burglary I get hot busted when I dip my nuggets Hey, if it take a million niggas to [Am]stop it just like Chuck did 'Cause we [E]run around Newark with the nine cock Keep it heated for the brothers that's not [Am]off my block An[E]d if ya don't know the flavor, be a tough guy and enter So go show you more nigga events than Jacob Jaffrey center I'm genuine, to the rhyme, get your canines Cops that got the hot [Am]Glockstocked for when it's playtime [E]I rock around the Robin tweet tweet on the calendar 'Cause you couldn't pull my number if your [Am]class major was Algeb[E]ra I make bitches moan to my Stallone without Sylvester 'Cause I'm more deadlier than a whole school [Am]system of investors So [E]check us, I always smoke mad blunts before breakfast 'Cause I, Get Around like 2Pac with Po[Am]etic in my Justice Hold [E]tight, hold tight, everybody hold tight I'm super like my man cat, 'cause [Am]I keep my [E]styles jam packed I like Anthrax, split my pants like Bill Bixby You could tell the tracks was fat from the work [Am]of my MP- 60 I [E]smoke the chronic that's why my sinus always fucked up Them bones, them bones, them [Am]bones will have you fucked up [E]I blaze blunts with my nigga Mellow, yo say hello (Yo what up dog?) Really, now pass [Am]the second blun[E]t to Quilly Now sit your big ass down 'cause I don't know about this rap stuff There wasn't rap when I was pickin' [Am]cotton, sayin massa [E]Y'all y'all whippersnappers, with the caps on backwards Man, y'all fuck around with Quilly I [Am]kick a bone out yo' ass [E]quick Watch out now, I ain't bullshittin' I representin' the oh- oh- oh- oh- oh- [Am]G's from forty- [E]three goddamnit And if you keep on with that dirty mistreatin' I'm gonna whoop your ass, til [Am]your heart stop beating [Verse 3] And yo, [E]chronic bubonic the funky bionic You find it I'll have to rewind it where minds are blinded Time for some ac[Am]tion so time to find it I [E]smoked out like a cookout, look out my dick's out That was last album when I was boun[Am]cin' on trains like Malcolm I [E]was high, I thought I wouldn't survive That's why I [Am]quit my nine to five and got [E]live Because this hip- to- the- hop shit fills my pockets And I'm Audi for ninety- four be cause I already got my [E]props [Outro 1] Hoes, hoes, and more hoes [Am][E] [Am] [E] [Am][E] [Am][E] [Am][E] [Am][E]
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18%
167 BPM