Jay-Z and Kanye West - Niggas in Paris acoustic

Strumming - DddDddDd ( "D" represtents accented rythm)

Tuning - Standard

Same Chords,    , repeated throughout



            
So I ball so h

              
ard mothafucka

              
s wanna fine m

   
e, first nigga

s gotta find m

e
             
What's 50 gran

             
d to a mothafu

              
cka like me, c

an you please 

remind me
            
(Ball so hard)

              
 This shit cra

             
zy, y'all don'

              
t know that do

              
n't shit faze 

   
me
             
The Nets could

              
 go 0 for 82 a

        
nd I'd look at

 you like this

 shit gravy
            
(Ball so hard)

              
 This shit wei

    
rd, we ain't e

ven spose to b

e here
             
(Ball so hard)

              
 Since we here

       
, it's only ri

ght that we'd 

be fair


Psycho: I'm liable to go Michael, take your pick
Jackson, Tyson, Jordan, Game 6
(Ball so hard) Got a broken clock, Rolleys that don't tick tock
Audemars that's losing time, hidden behind all these big rocks
(Ball so hard) I'm shocked too, I'm supposed to be locked up too
If you escaped what I've escaped, you'd be in Paris getting fucked up too
(Ball so hard) Let’s get faded, Le Meurice for like 6 days
Gold bottles, scold models, spillin’ Ace on my sick J’s
(Ball so hard) Bitch, behave, just might let you meet 'Ye
Chi town's D. Rose, I’m moving the Nets to BK

[Hook]        
Ball so hard mothafuckas want to fine me
(That shit cray, that shit cray, that shit cray)

[Verse 2: Kanye]
She said, "'Ye can we get married at the mall?"
I said, "Look, you need to crawl 'fore you ball
Come and meet me in the bathroom stall
And show me why you deserve to have it all."
That shit cray, ain’t it Jay? What she order, fish filet?
Your whip so cold – this old thing?
Act like you’ll ever be around mothafuckas like this again
Bourgie girl, grab her hand, fuck that bitch she don’t wanna dance
Excuse my French but I’m in France, I’m just sayin'
Prince Williams ain’t do it right if you ask me
Cause I was him, I would have married Kate and Ashley
What’s Gucci, my nigga? What’s Louis, my killa?
What’s drugs, my dealer? What’s that jacket, Margiela?
Doctors say I’m the illest, cause I’m suffering from realness
Got my niggas in Paris and they going gorillas, huh