Crosshairs

[Intro]
Gm Gm D7b9 Ebmaj7 Gm D7b9
Ebmaj7 D7b9 Gm D7b9
Ebmaj7 D7b9

[Verse]
Gm                  Ebmaj7  Dm7           Gm
  The fat is in the fire, a fryer made of chicken wire
                 Bbmaj7
Gettin' sick and tired of a friggin' liar
Ebmaj7
      Pelican,
         Cm7          Dm7
with some   very soft mangos
  Bbmaj7                       Am6
A closet full of skeletons and terry cloth Kangols
Gm                      Ebmaj7
  Flew the coop, before you   hit it,
       Dm7
let me warn you
    Gm                       Bbmaj7
She did a cool hula hoop but don't get any on you
Ebmaj7                       Cm7            Dm7
      It's all a big scam to make y'all eat pig ham
Bbmaj7                                   Am6
      When he's on the mic he's like the triggerman,
FIGJAM
Gm
  DOOM, not to be confused with nobody
Especially,
since the flows he used was so nutty
Never too woozy to go study
Crews got no clues like old cruddy Officer McGillicuddy
Gm
  Watch your six,
D7b9
he  got a lot of more tricks
Ebmaj7
Lyrics, bricks,
         D7b9
on sticks    sure got rawnytics
Gm
  It's a gift,
     D7b9
don't    get shot for kicks
Ebmaj7                    D7b9
With  the same slick used to  plot sick vics with
Gm                   Ebmaj7     Dm7
  Spotted at a chick flick, holdin' hands
    Gm                       Bbmaj7
The other one on his swollen glans, a golden chance
Ebmaj7                        Cm7          Dm7
      That's why he kept them holes in his pants
    Bbmaj7
Rollin'   in a old van,
   Am6
is what he told his stolen fans
Gm
  Is that you? True,
Ebmaj7          Dm7
matched from hat   to shoe
Gm                  Bbmaj7
  Snafu, snatch any brew, LaBatt's Blue
Ebmaj7                      Cm7
      Black Jew like that's new,
     Dm7
patch   me through
Bbmaj7                     Am6
No    latch attached, skat shoo,
catch twenty two
Gm
  Super, he's loaded dice nice
And overpriced,
an arm and a leg;
owe 'em your life or your ice
Villain, nag a grieving old hag
Snag a bragger by his mic cord and leave him holding the
bag
Gm
  Come clean,
           Ebmaj7          Dm7
a bunch of dumb  mean cream   puffs
  Gm
A keen drum machine buff,
    Bbmaj7
who fiends for more green stuff
Ebmaj7                             Cm7             Dm7
      Instead of starvin' there be problems by the goo gobs
Aight,
Bbmaj7                            Am6
      somebody's robbin' Lou Dobbs   and them tonight
Gm                     Ebmaj7
  And he's on the next flight,
    Dm7
moon   bound
Gm                              Bbmaj7
  And makes it a point to stay away   from the goon pound
Ebmaj7                      Cm7         Dm7
      Got some peers that's gone in the lost years
Bbmaj7
      Tears and cheers,
Am6
born in the crosshairs