Табулатура в формате Guitar Pro , содержащая следующие дорожки:
Rhythm Guitar
Overdriven Guitar
Lead Guitar
Electric Guitar (muted]
Bass
Acoustic Bass
Percussion
Drums
Overdub Guitar
Electric Guitar (muted]
Текст
No-Cash! (No-Cash!) You don't wanna fuck with me I burn churches like persons in the third degree With the strike of a match, hit the gasoline Drop pills, drugs kill, but it's worth the thrill Learned it in the Nazo pits, quick to draw (One time) Stop your complainin' or we'll cut 'ya like a chainsaw And drink your blood by pitcher until we feel drunk And grind your fucking bones to lace by fucking blunt, punk Snap, crack, crackle, pop, motherfuck, a cop Always laying on my toes when I walk the block When I go to the store, I bring my own discount 'Cause I'm sick of paying money to suck corporate cock Yo, I know my Spanish is rusty, by my English is old 40oz down, grab yourself an ice cold Colt 45 Feeling alive. Drunk as fuck in the daylight and I'm ready to die Sometimes, sometimes I count the hours When I'm alone, all alone with a thousand downers And like thread, I was just gonna stitch the seams Now my body is soaked in gasoline Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Nazo step to this, go and slit your wrists, cross you off the list Unless you're gonna wanna throw a punch, it'll break your fists Man up, duck down, 'cause these caps won't miss Bust six shots on an undercover cop 'cause they're all crooked motherfuckers and it ain't gonna stop So hold your ground down and run your own town Down with the man, let the drum sound Hit you hard with accurate precision, split decision Yo I'm sinning and I'm grinning Fuck religion! Fucked up, got a vision, so listen: I do what makes me happy, not for money or attention A line and a 40oz is how I get down You say you're the king, but I'm wearing the crown High on my throne, sniffing lines, making deals I got a chef in the kitchen cooking my last meal Sometimes, sometimes I count the hours When I'm alone, all alone with a thousand downers And like thread, I was just gonna stitch the seams Now my body is soaked in gasoline No-Cash! (No-Cash!) You don't wanna fuck with me I burn churches like persons in the third degree With the strike of a match, hit the gasoline Drop pills, drugs kill, but it's worth the thrill Learned it in the Nazo pits, quick to draw (One time) Stop your complainin' or we'll cut 'ya like a chainsaw And drink your blood by pitcher until we feel drunk And grind your fucking bones to lace by fucking blunt, punk Snap, crack, crackle, pop, motherfuck, a cop Always laying on my toes when I walk the block When I go to the store, I bring my own discount 'Cause I'm sick of paying money to suck corporate cock Yo, I know my Spanish is rust, by my English is old 40oz down, grab yourself an ice cold Colt 45 Feeling alive. Drunk as fuck in the daylight and I'm ready to die Sometimes, sometimes I count the hours When I'm alone, all alone with a thousand downers And like thread, I was just gonna stitch the seams Now my body is soaked in gasoline Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! Nazo step to this, go and slit your wrists, cross you off the list Unless you're gonna wanna throw a punch, it'll break your fists Man up, duck down, 'cause these caps won't miss Bust six shots on an undercover cop 'cause they're all crooked motherfuckers and it ain't gonna stop So hold your ground down and run your own town Down with the man, let the drum sound Hit you hard with accurate precision, split decision Yo I'm sinning and I'm grinning Fuck religion! Fucked up, got a vision, so listen: I do what makes me happy, not for money or attention A line and a 40oz is how I get down You say you're the king, but I'm wearing the crown High on my throne, sniffing lines, making deals I got a chef in the kitchen cooking my last meal Sometimes, sometimes I stay alive To witness sickness under a cloudy sky And like thread, I was just gonna stitch the seams Now my body is soaked in gasoline My body is soaked in gasoline My body is soaked in gasoline My body is soaked in gasoline My body is soaked in gasoline