Tamale: accordi di
Tyler
Tyler
The Creator
The Creator

N/A283 visualizzazioni
5.0 (2)
Tonalità: B major
Verse 1
C
C
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
B
B
They say I've calmed
Verse 2
Bm
Bm
down
B
B
since the last album
E
E
C
C
Well, lick my dick,
Em
Em
C
C
how does that sound? Um
E
E
C
C
E
E
C
C
Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns
E
E
And I don't give a shit,
bend my rectum
E
E
B
B
Somebody said bands make her dance
E
E
C
C
You think you're getting cash,
no bitch, you're dumb
The only thing that you're
gonna get is this dick
B
B
Wait turn this up, bitch, this my jam,
C
C
(Where the drums at?)
Here, take a goddamn picture
And tell Spike Lee he's
a goddamn nigger
And while you're at it, pass the lotion
And fapping and Xbox live, that fun
Before I come, I'm calling your sister
F#m
F#m
Db
Db
C
C
When she comes over, I take picture
Instantly put it on Instagram and suplex her
Verse 3
off a building if I get banned
C
C
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Ab
Ab
C
C
Why y'all so salty, I do molly and zone
Dbm
Dbm
Db
Db
C
C
Can't agree bitch I'm on,
your boy is bad to the bone
Verse 4
C
C
Bring back the horns that
was played in the beginning
And tell Tony Parker that
I found his vision
And if he's tripping off my sneak dissing
Then he has to deal with
me and my minions
Tryna get a Bimmer, e46
Have you heard
B
B
48, motherfucka I'm great
C
C
Golf Wang prints always
cover the sleeves
B
B
From cuts from the Biebs, 'cause
C
C
A
A
F#m
F#m
he's puffin' the trees, please
C
C
F
F
A
A
Fuck I look like, got a new bike tire
C
C
Never popped like the pussy
on a bitch dyke
Think I give a fuck, I do, I go balls
And I bust in her jaw like
(Fuck that disease!)
My urethra, hole that I pee from
Bigger than an obese snack
on Aretha
Now, turn that snare down
I'm back like I'm Rosa Parks fare
B
B
on the same damn bus
Verse 5
Like "you're going to jail now!"
Ab
Ab
C
C
Ab
Ab
C
C
Ab
Ab
C
C
Ta male! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Ab
Ab
C
C
Ab
Ab
C
C
Why y'all so salty,
Dbm
Dbm
F#m
F#m
I do molly and zone
C#
C#
F#m
F#m
Can't agree bitch I'm on,
A
A
G#
G#
E
E
your boy is bad to the bone
Verse 6
E
E
B
B
C
C
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?
If a woodchuck could ever give a fuck?
B
B
C
C
Bitch suck dick, motherfuck you and your opinions,
F
F
C
C
(Can you kick it?)
Ab
Ab
Yes I can sir
C
C
Where the lump is sicker than
Bbm
Bbm
the last bar bold-er
C
C
I'm I'm a C.O. Colorado,
Bbm
Bbm
fuck Michael bitch I'm badder than my B.O.
G
G
C
C
Find me and Lance tryna
dance during chemo
Bm
Bm
B
B
Before they repossess our
C
C
A
A
C
C
strong arm bands and tuxedos
Verse 7
Ab
Ab
C
C
Ab
Ab
Yeah buddy, na na na na na na na
C
C
Ab
Ab
Golf wang, golf wang, go fuck you,
C
C
Dbm
Dbm
Ab
Ab
C
C
na na na na na na
Why y'all so salty
A
A
F#m
F#m
I do molly and zone
Db
Db
C
C
Can't agree, bitch I'm on
F#m
F#m
A
A
C
C
Your boy is bad to the bone
Verse 8
C
C
Em
Em
How many fags can a light bulb screw?
F#m
F#m
Well if I has a dick,
they be two's and sixes
F
F
And tell the NRA I'm about
to lose my shit
Dm
Dm
Em
Em
E
E
Shoot through Wayne Lapierre's
hair with a crucifix
Em
Em
C
C
How many ladies in the house?
Em
Em
How many ladies in the house
C
C
without a rich nigga, huh?
Verse 9
C
C
A
A
C
C
A
A
A little Jergens in
my palm for the jerkin'
Em
Em
F#m
F#m
Hope my mom don't catch me,
tryna set mood
C
C
Dm
Dm
Little Redtube, fuck lotion,
Em
Em
E
E
I don't need lub e, dry fit suits me
C
C
Eb
Eb
Up and down, friction with the sound,
shit's kind of disgusting
Fap time and before I flatline,
Clancy chimes in my room and catch me
Outro 1
This shit's so damn embarrassing like

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5.0 (2)
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