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                             99 Problems by Courtney Love
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Super simple, this is a Jay-Z cover she played live recently on acoustic guitar. 
Pretty sure it's just these three chords.

Tuning: EADGBE


Em                         G
Got the rock patrol on the gat patrol

D
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed

Em                       G
Critics are saying he's "money, cash, hoes,

D
"From the hood, stupid, what types of facts are those?"

Em                                G
If you grew up with holes in your Zapatos

D
You'd celebrate the minute you was havin' dough

Em                                  G
I'm like "Fuck you critics, kiss my whole asshole"

D
If you don't like my lyrics you can press fast-forward

Em                                  G
I've got beef with radio if I don't play their show

D
They don't play my hits, but I don't give a shit, so

Em                   G
Rap mags try and use my black ass 

D
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads

Em                    G
I don't know what you take me as

D
Or understand the intelligence Jay-Z has

Em                               G
I'm from rags to riches, nigger, I ain't dumb

D
I got ninety nine problems and a bitch ain't one


Em                               G
I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one

D
If you're having girl problems, I feel bad for you son


Em                               G
I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one


Em                       G
Once upon a time not too long ago

D
A nigger like myself had to strong arm a ho

Em                               G
This is not a ho in the sense of havin' a pussy

D
But a pussy having no goddamn sense, try and push me

Em                    G
I tried to ignore it, pray to the lord 

D
Pray for him, cause some fools love to perform

Em                           G
You know the type, loud as a motorbike

D
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight

Em                              G
And the only thing that's gonna happen

D
Is that I'm gonna get to clappin'


Em                       G
He and his boys gonna be yappin' to the captain

D
And there I go trapped in the Kit Kat again

Em                               G   
Back through the system with the riff raff again

D
Fiends on the floor, scratching again

Em                             G
Paparazzis with their cameras, snapping at them

D
D.A. tried to give a nigga a shaft again

Em                       G
A million for bail cause I'm African

D
All because the fools harassin'

Em                            G
Try to play the boy like he's saccharin

D
But ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun


Em                              G       D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

Em                              G       D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

Em                              G       D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

Em                              G       D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

Em                        G       D
Nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

Em                              G       D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun

Em 
I got a ninety nine problems

            G     D     Em
But being a bitch ain't one