Аккорды к песне ​Cardi B — Red Barz

Cardi B - Red Barz 
 
[Intro] 
Am       C 
Uh, yeah 
Am      G 
Some regular degular, bloody bars 
 
[Verse] 
Am                 C 
I swear to God, they ain't wanna see me leave the club 
Am               G 
Got up on my shit and now they scared to show me love 
Am                 C 
They'd rather see me on the pole twerkin' it for dubs 
Am                  G 
I guess I really gotta show them what the fuck is up 
Am               C 
I'm on some other shit, that Cardi    B gutta shit 
Am                 G 
Every time I catch a hating bitch, she on her stutter shit 
Am                 C 
Can't finish her words but on Instagram thuggin' shit 
Am                G 
You set yourself up, don't make it seem like I be buggin', bitch 
Am               C 
And niggas hatin' on me, really be upset 
Am                G 
I don't know, make me wonder what you got between your legs 
Am                C 
You a real nigga mad at a bitch for getting bread? 
Am                 G 
You's a bitch from birth, you just grew a third leg, woo! 
Am                 C 
Bite down, bite down, it was crunch time 
Am                   G 
Yeah I skip all of them bitches in the lunch line 
Am                 C 
I put in work, now I'm here at the front line 
Am                 G 
Ready for the bullshit, I swear it's on my bloodline 
Am               C 
Touch mine, getting slumped, slimed one time 
Am                G 
Pump blind, bitches quick, then I dump mine 
Am                 C 
Pull up with the Gucci clutch, spitting clutch rhymes 
Am                  G 
Flyer than a big big  B with a Blood tie 
Am               C 
Don't Do much, she get hard when I bust wines 
Am                G 
No straws for this juice box, got one time 
Am                C 
Last nigga I was with went insane 
Am               G 
'Cause my head game movin' hills like I'm lookin' for the sunshine 
Am                C 
I'm a Bronx bitch birthed from the hip-hop 
Am                G 
From the block to the tick tock in the Patek watch 
Am                 C 
Quick drop with the cash, couldn't fit the Ziploc 
Am                G 
Grips locked, get your shit popped in my flip flops 
Am                C 
Walking out, but every dollar, I still want it all 
Am             G 
Now he wanna nail me, I could give your man a cure 
Am                C 
You gotta mail me, but I don't check my spam at all 
Am                G 
Never feel what you're sayin' like I'm usin' Anbesol 
Am                C 
Travel all around the states getting nice checks 
Am                  G 
I was tourin' off a tape, I had a hype set 
Am                 C 
Is that the reason all these niggas wanna pipe next? 
Am                  G 
I'm a creep, bitch, see his dick through his Nike Tech 
Am                C 
Got 'em all scared, I ain't even strike yet 
Am               G 
Wire up jaws when I swing if the mic stretch 
Am                   C 
I recall, took the right steps, had a shot 
Am                 G 
So I took the shit, now this game gon' need a life vest 
 
 
[Outro] 
Uh 
I said, woo! 
Huh