Ends Tabulatur von Everlast

Original tuning : 1.5 step up

E          D                     C
Ends, some people will rob their mother 
        E          D              C
For the ends, rats snitch on one another 
        E     D                  C
For the ends, sometimes kids get murdered 
        E        D                C
For the ends, so before we go any further 
          E
I want my ends 

            E
I knew this cat named Darrell, he didn't have a dollar 
       A
He was Harvard material, Ivy League scholar 
      E  
Had a Ph.D., had an M.B.A. 
    A
But now he's waiting tables cause there's rent to pay 
     E
Companies downsizing, inflation's rising 
A
Can't find a job, he's feeling kind of stressed 
E
Doesn't even feel the effects when he says 
   A
Forgot to count how many times he been blessed 
      E
So he falls off track, starts smoking the crack 
    A
And once it hits his brain, it starts to chain react 
             E
He sells the shirt off his back, shoes off his feet 
     A
He's losing all his teeth, now he's out in the street 
    E
And all of sudden he's like Jesse James 
          A
Trying to stick up kids for their watches and chains 
         E
But he's from business school, and he's nervous with the tool 
      A
So he ends up on his back in a bloody pool 

        E
For the ends...etc.

I knew this chick named Sally, she had a nice strut 
And everywhere that I went, she was up in the cut 
Swinging that butt, like race you out here 
Only rapped the benz, and rocked the fly gear 
Brand name wearing, champagne waving 
Jewels around the neck, a life style she's craving 
Ain't no saving, she's doing enough spending 
If you do the lending, she'll do the bending 
Straight machine vending, it's money for take 
Shopping sprees get her on her knees 
And if you hit her with keys to your crib, you acting funny 
Come home one day, find her counting out your money 
From the Wetlands, all the way to the Apollo 
If you're broke she's spittin, and if you're rich she might swallow

For the ends...etc. 

I knew these two homeboys, that made a lot of noise
Making money on the block, kids was on they jock
They was tougher than leather like Reverend Run 
DMC, they was toting guns 
Holdin' weight, goin' out of state 
Stackin' mad chips, and pushin' phat whips 
Fly jewels and clothes, and got no job 
And then one did some kid, and one got robbed 

For the ends...etc.