Ebm  Gb                 |Ebm
30, you a fool for this one

[Chorus]
Db  Gb                      Ebm
   Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Db Gb                      Ebm
   Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Db Gb                           Ebm
   Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Db Gb                      Ebm
   Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door
Db        Gb                      Ebm
We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it
Db  Gb                              Ebm
   Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Db  Gb                             Ebm
   Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic
Db  Gb                            Ebm
   You work at Lids, puttin' shit on your kids, go'n with all that cappin' (talk your shit, Rich Homie)

[Verse 1]
                  Ebm
Pulled up in that Benz, I hopped out perfect (I hopped out clean)
                  Ebm
Tried to rob me, you got killed, now was it worth it? (fa-fa-fa-fa)
                               Ebm
Might buy that Maybach, I grew up without no curtains (might buy that six-three, nigga)
                                 Ebm
And when I get it, I'ma keep my windows rolled up on purpose (ayy, ayy)
Gb                             Ebm
You can't tell a nigga like me shit (nah)
I ain't have it all when I was little (nope)
Gb                           Ebm
Sixteen years old, drinkin' liquor (what?)
I ain't never ever touched a beer (ha)
Gb                          Ebm
I ain't never ever touch a mill' (never)
Till I stayed down and start rappin' (I stayed down, nigga)
Gb                      Ebm
Then I turned my dreams into reality (that right too), I rode that

[Chorus]
Db  Gb                      Ebm
   Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Db Gb                      Ebm
   Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Db Gb                           Ebm
   Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Db Gb                      Ebm
   Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door
Db        Gb                      Ebm
We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it
Db  Gb                              Ebm
   Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Db  Gb                             Ebm
   Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic
Db  Gb                            Ebm
   You work at Lids, puttin' shit on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'

[Verse 2]
Gb                                         Ebm
We were growin' up, fightin' when we were kids (yeah)
Remember some nights where we ain't eat? (ayy)
Gb                               Ebm
I was Holyfield, hustlin' in the trap (truth)
They was Mike Tyson, bitin' on the kid (ayy, Mike)
Gb                        Ebm
I remember tryin' to get rich (hey)
Smokin' two for fives of the mid (woo)
Gb                       Ebm
Never had nothing growin' up (nah)
Nigga, don't be surprised when I get it (ayy)
Gb                               Ebm
Where were you when I was on my dick? (woo)
I was so broke, I needed fix (yup)
Gb                           Ebm
Reminiscin' 'bout me growin' up
You know I hate to talk about this shit (I do)
Gb                                  Ebm
Load the ten and walked up out the bitch (ten)
Stripper fame, tryin' to see who gettin' it (ha)
Gb                        Ebm
Walkin' around with that thang on me
N.C.
And you know I got my license for this bitch (Rich Homie, baby)

[Chorus]
Db  Gb                      Ebm
   Herschel Walker, used to ride that MARTA, yeah, that thirty-four
Db Gb                      Ebm
   Pants saggin', bankroll in my pocket and that thirty close
Db Gb                           Ebm
   Church in session, talk shit like the pastor, catch the holy ghost
Db Gb                      Ebm
   Trap is bunkin' and we makin' money, see that open door
Db        Gb                      Ebm
We been gettin' it, we been goin' hard, boy, I gotta have it
Db  Gb                              Ebm
   Neighbor trippin', way too many cars, we got too much traffic
Db  Gb                             Ebm
   Look suspicious, pistol in my drawers and yeah, it's automatic
Db  Gb                            Ebm
   You work at Lids, puttin' shit on your kids, go'n with all that cappin'