Mr. Pitiful Harmonica tabs

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Mmm mmm, yeah
Oh I like this
I wanna tell this story
A little story about umm
A brother who you would think has everything goin’ for himself
But apparently for some reason he just ain’t happenin’
I call this brother mr. pitiful
I wanna tell you somethin’ about him, check it out

The story begins in 1984
When I met the biz markie out in front of the store
He used to tell me all the time, “yo your lyrics is hype
We got to get together and make a record of some type”
I said, “man, the hype behind run-d.m.c. and cool j
What the f*ck makes you think they’re gonna give us a play?”
We did a few shows together, freestylin’ on stage
Manhattan and long island, for mike and dave
After that, I was convinced we can do it
Until my man biz jetted and came out with “make the music”
From right there, I said, “man, this shit is real
Look at biz in the new leather and a pair of spot bills”
I got to give it to you dukes, I was wrong
Well you out there now, so put my black ass on
And sure enough, huh, in about a year’s time
I was r-a-w, goin’ for mine
Droppin’ jams that slammed on every radio program
And bam, got damn, look where I am
The first album, long live the kane, it sold
About umm aww fukkit it went gold
The money was comin’ in, yes I had done em in
It wasn’t quite hard for me to find a woman then
Cause I was in demand for lots of fans
A sexy chocolate guy in the public eye
I bought myself a condo out in queens
A plush white volvo and drove off the scene
But I remained the same since I moved out
For instance drinkin’ olde e and guinness stout
And also, hangin’ out with the troops
Most of all, takin care of ma dukes
Then all of a sudden things started to change
And many old friends started actin strange
Behind my back, sayin’ I’m soft and a sucker
Some even said, “yo let’s rob the motherfucker”
And family members askin for my papers
But biz set them straight, by makin’ “the vapors”
Girls cryin’ pregnant, to get some of my green
I’m like, “what the f*ck is this? billie jean?”
People harassin me, steadily askin’ me
Dis or dat, some even had the audacity
To say that I only liked light-skinned women
Tchk, huh, are you kiddin’?
Cause I love everyone
And I never act prejudiced to none
But for some reason people make my lifestyle so critical
That’s why they call me mr. pitiful

A few people know what I’m sayin’
Hmm, to the little daddy shane, you know what I mean
And to my man cool v, you know what I mean
To t.j. swan, you know what I mean
And to scoob and scrap, you know what I mean
To rob base and e.z. rock, you know what I mean
The magnum force, you know what I mean
And to the playboys, you know what I mean
To shemp shawn, you know what I mean
And the f.m.c., you know what I mean
Can’t forget miv, you know what I mean
Godfather d, you know what I mean
My man doug e. fresh, you know what I mean
And the fifty dollar crew from canada know what I mean
But most of all I can’t forget my man biz-mar-kie
And may I send this to a.j. quest, rest in peace

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