Cifra Club

Crack A Bottle

Eminem

Cifrado: Principal (guitarra y guitarra eléctrica)
Selo Cifra Club: esta cifra foi revisada para atender aos critérios oficiais da nossa Equipe de Qualidade.
tono: C#m
G# -  466544
C#m - x46654


[Intro]
A    G#
  Oh! Ladies and gentlemen
C#m
  The moment you've all been waiting for
A                G#         C#m
  In this corner, weighing 175 pounds
                A        G#      C#m
With a record of 17 rapes, 400 assaults, and 4 murders
      A              G#                        C#m
The undisputed, most diabolical villain in the world

Slim Shady! (Let's go!)


[Chorus]
A                    G#                   
  So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
      C#m                                               
Don't act like a snobby model, you just hit the lotto
A                       G#                  
  Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
C#m                                                         
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
A                                 G#               
  Now, where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?
          C#m                              
I noticed there's so many of 'em
                                      
And there's really not that many of us
A                        G#                        
  And ladies love us, my posse's kickin' up dust
     C#m
It's on 'til the break of dawn and we're starting this party from dusk


[Interlude]
N.C.
Okay, let's go!


[Verse 1]
     A                         G#              
Back with Andre the Giant, Mr. Elephant Tusk
         C#m                                             
Fix your musk, you'll be just another one bit the dust
         A                                  G#              
Just one of my mother's sons who got thrown under the bus
        C#m                                             
Kiss my butt, lick fromunda cheese from under my nuts
      A                            G#                  
It disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks
       C#m                                            
It's a must, I redeem my name and haters get mushed
        A                              G#               
Bitches lust, man, they love me when I lay in the cut
     C#m                                               
Fisticuffs, the lady give her eighty-some paper cuts
            A                        G#                     
Now picture us; it's ridiculous, you curse at the thought
              C#m
'Cause when I spit the verse the shit gets worse than Worcestershire sauce
           A                                    G#                 
If I could fit the words, it's picture perfect, works every time
      C#m                                              
Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes
        A                           G#                 
It's elementary, the elephants have entered the room
            C#m                                             
I venture to say we're the center of attention, it's true
       A                                 G#                 
Not to mention back with a vengeance, so hence the signal
       C#m                                                
Of the bat symbol, the platinum trio's back on you hoes


[Chorus]
A                    G#
  So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
      C#m                                               
Don't act like a snobby model, you just hit the lotto
A                       G#                  
  Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
C#m
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
A                                 G#               
  Now, where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?
          C#m                              
I noticed there's so many of 'em

And there's really not that many of us
A                        G#                        
  And ladies love us, my posse's kickin' up dust
     C#m
It's on 'til the break of dawn and we're starting this party from dusk


[Break 1]
N.C.
Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Dre!


[Verse 2]
     A                     G#
They see that low rider go by, they're like, "Oh my!"
C#m
You ain't got to tell me why you're sick 'cause I know why
  A                       G#                            
I dip through in that Six-Trey like, "Sick 'em, Dre!"
C#m                                                       
I'm an itch that they can't scratch, they're sick of me
A                          G#               
  But hey, what else can I say? I love L.A.
       C#m                                         
'Cause over and above all, it's just another day
    A                         G#              
And this one begins where the last one ends
        C#m                                       
Pick up where we left off and get smashed again
        A                              G#                
I'll be damned, just fucked around and crashed my Benz
         C#m                                                 A
Drivin' around with a smashed front end, let's cash that one in
                      G#              
Grab another one from out the stable
          C#m                                   
The Monte Carlo, El Camino, or the El Dorado?
            A                         G#                
The hell if I know, do I want leather seats or vinyl?
    C#m                                                         
Decisions, decisions, garage looks like Precision Collision
A                G#               
  Or Maaco, beats quake like Waco
     C#m
Just keep the bass low, speakers away from your face though


[Chorus]
A                    G#                   
  So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
      C#m
Don't act like a snobby model, you just hit the lotto
A                       G#                  
  Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
C#m
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
A                                 G#               
  Now, where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?
          C#m                              
I noticed there's so many of 'em
                                      
And there's really not that many of us
A                        G#                        
  And ladies love us, my posse's kickin' up dust
     C#m
It's on 'til the break of dawn and we're starting this party from dusk


[Break 2]
N.C.
And I take great pleasure in introducing 50 Cent!


[Verse 3]
     A            G#       
It's bottle after bottle
    C#m                                          
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
             A          G#       
It's what we into, it's simple
   C#m                                              
We ball out of control like you wouldn't believe
        A                     G#                   
I'm the napalm, the bomb, the Don, I'm King Kong
    C#m                                     
Get rolled on, wrapped up, and reigned on
    A                    G#                    
I'm so calm, through Vietnam, ring the alarm
          C#m                                         
Bring the Chandon, burn marijuan', do what you want
       A          G#                       
Nigga, on and on 'til the break of what?
        C#m
Get the paper, man, I'm cakin', you know I don't give a fuck
  A                           G#        
I spend it like it don't mean nothin'
                     C#m
Blow it like it's supposed to be blown, motherfucker, I'm grown
  A                 G#                        
I stunt, I style, I flash the shit (Uh huh)
 C#m
I gets what the fuck I want, so what I trick? (Yeah)
    A                     G#                   
Fat-ass Birkin bags, some classy shit (Haha)
      C#m
Jimmy Choo shoes; I say, "Move," a bitch move


[Chorus]
A                    G#
  So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
      C#m
Don't act like a snobby model, you just hit the lotto
A                       G#
  Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
C#m
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
A                                 G#
  Now, where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?
          C#m
I noticed there's so many of 'em

And there's really not that many of us
A                        G#
  And ladies love us, my posse's kickin' up dust
     C#m                                                          C#m (6/4)
It's on 'til the break of dawn and we're starting this party from dusk
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      • Am
      • Bbm
      • Bm
      • Cm
      • C#m
      • Dm
      • Ebm
      • Em
      • Fm
      • F#m
      • Gm
      • G#m
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