Middle Child

Cm    Ab    Cm


[Refrain]
Cm
N****s been countin' me out

I’m countin' my bullets, I'm loadin’ my clips
                                      Ab
I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list
                  G                       Cm
I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin’ ’em hit

The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit

The game is off balance, I’m back on my shit
                              Ab
The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty

But that's how I like it, you all on my dick


[Verse 1]
               Cm
I'm all in my bag, this hard as it get

I do not snort powder, I might take a sip
       G                              Ab
I might hit the blunt, but I'm liable to trip
                    Bb
I ain’t poppin' no pill, but you do as you wish
                    Cm
I roll with some fiends, I love 'em to death

I got a few mil' but not all of them rich
                   Ab
What good is the bread if my n****s is broke?

What good is first class if my n****s can't sit?

 Bb              Cm
That's my next mission, that's why I can't quit

Just like LeBron, get my n****s more chips
              Ab
Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist
                      Bb
This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift
               Cm
Back when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss

They act like two legends cannot coexist
              Ab
But I'd never beef with a n**** for nothin'
                                    G
If I smoke a rapper, it's gon' be legit
                 Cm
It won't be for clout, it won't be for fame
                                               Ab
It won't be 'cause my shit ain't sellin' the same
                Ab
It won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers
                     Bb
It won't be 'cause some n**** slid in my lane
             Cm
Everything grows, it's destined to change

I love you lil' n****s, I'm glad that you came
                  Ab
I hope that you scrape every dollar you can
                 Bb
I hope you know money won't erase the pain

       Cm
To the OGs, I'm thankin' you now

Was watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground
                            Ab
I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style

I studied the greats, I'm the greatest right now
            Cm
Fuck if you feel me, you ain't got a choice

Now I ain't do no promo, still made all that noise
                               Ab
This year gon' be different, I set my intentions
             Ab                          Bb
I promise to slap all that hate out your voice


[Refrain]
Cm
N****s been countin' me out

I'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips
                             Ab
I'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list

I'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit
                   Cm
The real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit

The game is off balance, I'm back on my shit
     C          Ab
The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty
                                         Cm
But that's how I like it, you all on my dick

Cm    Cm


[Chorus]
                        Gm    Ab
I just poured somethin' in my cup
           Bb                      Cm
I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel
   Cm            Ab
Promise I am never lettin' up
      Bb                          Cm
Money in your palm don't make you real
                             G    Ab
Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck
      Bb                          Cm
I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel
                       Gm                  Ab
If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck
                                   Gm
Pistol in your hand don't make you real


[Verse 2]
  Cm
I'm dead in the middle of two generations

I'm little bro and big bro all at once
              Ab
Just left the lab with young 21 Savage
             Bb
I'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch
            Gm
Had a long talk with the young n**** Kodak
            Cm
Reminded me of young n****s from 'Ville
                   Ab
Straight out the projects, no fakin', just honest
             Bb
I wish that he had more guidance, for real
          Cm
Too many n****s in cycle of jail

Spending they birthdays inside of a cell
             Ab
We coming from a long bloodline of trauma
                                       Bb
We raised by our mamas, Lord, we gotta heal
                Cm
We hurting our sisters, the babies as well

We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well
                Ab
Distorted self-image, we set up to fail
                                            G
I'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, n****

Cm


[Chorus]
                               Ab
I just poured somethin' in my cup
                                  Cm
I've been wantin' somethin' I can feel
                           Ab
Promise I am never lettin' up

Money in your palm don't make you real
  Gm                       Ab
Promise I am never lettin' up
      Bb                          Cm
Money in your palm don't make you real
                             G    Ab
Foot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck
      Gm                          Cm
I'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel
                       Gm                  Ab
If it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck
                Bb                   Gm
Pistol in your hand don't make you real


[Otro]
                                   Ab
Money in your palm don't make you real
        Bb                          Cm
Pistol in your hand don't make you real