This song is from the album The Marshall Mathers LP2 (Expanded Edition), released on 05 November 2013. The vocals are by Eminem , Buckshot, the music is produced by Katalyst, and the lyrics are written by Katalyst, Buckshot, Eminem, Ken Lewis , Brent Kolatalo.
This song is originally in the key of Eb Minor. You can change it to any key you want, using the Transpose option. The average tempo is 91 BPM. These chords are simple and easy to play on the guitar, ukulele or piano.
This song is originally in the key of Eb Minor. You can change it to any key you want, using the Transpose option. The average tempo is 91 BPM. These chords are simple and easy to play on the guitar, ukulele or piano.
Original Key: Eb Minor Time Signature: 4/4 Tempo: 91 Suggested Strumming: DU,DU,DU,DU c h o r d z o n e . o r g [INTRO] [VERSE] Ebm Used to get bent, now I represent to the fullest Ebm Pencil is full of insolent bullets Ebm I'm like a Doberman Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott' Ebm Mixed with a toxic, the plot begins to thicken Ebm I begin to spittin' like vintage Pac Ebm Demented, demonic, sinister Ebm Ever since the Doc' replenished me Ebm The day he gave me that shot when I was just about to quit Ebm So to not see him with me would be a shockin' image Ebm And I'm the definition of what a concrete chin is Ebm ‘Cause no matter how many times you sock me in it Ebm And knock me to the canvas, even the boxin' critics Ebm Know that if I get off to a rocky start, I'll always have a Rocky finish Ebm Eat me broccoli, spinach, cocky? Nope Ebm But I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at Ebm This and put emphasis on the "dope" Ebm So when names come up, in that conversation of who's the dopest, better throw mine in it Ebm And don't mind me, while I remind you of the flow Ebm You won't find anywhere Ebm When it fires and I unload, my pen explodes Ebm 'Til there's no rhymes in it, reload in no time Ebm Let insults fly every sixty seconds that go by, so you know I meant it Ebm In school I was so shy, timid Ebm Two pairs of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member Ebm Beggin' my mom for K Mart MacGregors Ebm ‘Cause those were new, St. Vincent de Paul Ebm Those Pony's were used, and no size fitted Ebm But kissed them old days, adiós, I did it Ebm They said I was a gimmick Ebm Now I'm the one that those guys mimic Ebm Now you fuckers don't wanna go startin' no argument Ebm ‘Cause you know I'll win it Ebm Name a flow that's more authentic, and don't front www.chordzone.org [CHORUS] Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, word Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Yo, why you frontin'? Ebm You know I got you open, kid [VERSE] Ebm Rest in peace to Big Proof Ebm You was a beast, you lyrically mirrored me Ebm Molded my flow off of you, your spirit's flowin' through me Ebm I love you, Doody, without you I feel so incomplete Ebm I'm no king, no need for rose petals to be thrown at my feet Ebm I'm a thorn in your side, get thrown into a throne Ebm Better watch the fuckin' tone that you speak Ebm Feel like I'm in the zone, I'm in a whole different league Ebm On my motherfuckin' own, it's just me Ebm No opponents can compete Ebm And I've never been known to retreat Ebm From beef, be beat, follow trends or wallow in defeat Ebm I'm still hungry as fuck, but can't even say "Bon appétit" Ebm ‘Cause I don't know what to eat Ebm Fuckin' microphone or the beat Ebm Bitch, nobody's mind works like mine Ebm It's nose to the grindstone time, holmes, your mind's blown Ebm ‘Cause I rhyme like I'm still tryna get signed Ebm Up in the Ebony Show case Ebm With Denaun screamin' "Who the fuck passed you the mic?" Ebm Never asked you to like my shit from the get Ebm I'd rather ask you to wipe my ass, bitch Ebm You had you a nice run, now take a hike Ebm I ever meet my match, I'ma strike that bitch first Ebm ‘Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real rappers Ebm The real rappers get their mothafuckin' skills crackin' Ebm Word to Buckshot and Dru Ha, why the fuck not? Ebm You don't like it? Suck a cock, almost forgot Ebm Before I signed with the Doc, I almost signed with Duck Down Ebm ‘Cause Rawkus didn't make no offers, so mothafuck Loud Ebm They jerked me around, so what's up now? Ebm Wow, how much of an asshole would I sound like Ebm Rubbin' it in and holdin' some grudge now? But don't front www.chordzone.org [CHORUS] Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, word Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Don't front, you know I got you open, kid Ebm Yo, why you frontin'? Ebm You know I got you open, kid [VERSE] Ebm Late at night, used to catch a buzz, couldn't write Ebm Now I write the type of shit to make you wipe Ebm But wear diapers, ‘cause you might leave a streak Ebm I'm on a streak, windshield wipers couldn't wipe Ebm It's hard to decipher what cypher I might jump in tonight Ebm ‘Cause I'm hyper or somethin' Ebm Needin' someone or somethin' is lightin' Ebm This fire under me, it's breathin' new life Ebm It's like I already died once Ebm I guess some people only live twice, and it's funny Ebm My days of being broke were so long ago Ebm I lost all concept of money Ebm But you dimes won't get a fuckin' nickle from me Ebm Oh shit, I'm down on one knee Ebm I'm havin' a stroke of genius—Elizabeth, I'm comin' to you, honey Ebm From boy to man Ebm And still make a whore moan, like a thyroid gland Ebm I'm in another category, man Ebm Don't group me up with them pop stars Ebm I never needed a pat on the back to get at a boy, band Ebm No offense? Yes offense Ebm Precedents has been set that'll never get met Ebm Middle finger pressed against Moby's nose Ebm Shouts to Obie, the curtains closed on my show Ebm But never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it Ebm You can't take it, oh Ebm Got a whole generation of rappers comin' up Ebm That are nutty with the flow, but convince me you've heard Ebm An MC since me who's as good with the fuckin' mincing of words Ebm Without mincing words that'll make you feel like I'm pinching a nerve Ebm Who's as mentally disturbed Ebm You might as well stick a knife in me and turn Ebm It'll be like my skin bein' Indian burned, hah Ebm Bitch, there isn't one, when will you learn? Ebm Never been served, if memory serves Ebm I'd battle that 'til my own recollection remembers these words [OUTRO] Ebm You know I got you open kid (Don't front), don't stop frontin' Ebm You know I got you open, Word Life
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