Tamale: accordi di
Tyler
Tyler
The Creator
The Creator

N/A284 visualizzazioni
5.0 (2)
Tonalità: B major
Verse 1
D
D
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
C#
C#
They say I've calmed
Verse 2
C#m
C#m
down
C#
C#
since the last album
F#
F#
D
D
Well, lick my dick,
F#m
F#m
D
D
how does that sound? Um
F#
F#
D
D
F#
F#
D
D
Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns
F#
F#
And I don't give a shit,
bend my rectum
F#
F#
C#
C#
Somebody said bands make her dance
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F#
D
D
You think you're getting cash,
no bitch, you're dumb
The only thing that you're
gonna get is this dick
C#
C#
Wait turn this up, bitch, this my jam,
D
D
(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
Abm
Abm
Eb
Eb
D
D
When she comes over, I take picture
Instantly put it on Instagram and suplex her
Verse 3
off a building if I get banned
D
D
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Bb
Bb
D
D
Why y'all so salty, I do molly and zone
Ebm
Ebm
Eb
Eb
D
D
Can't agree bitch I'm on,
your boy is bad to the bone
Verse 4
D
D
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
C#
C#
48, motherfucka I'm great
D
D
Golf Wang prints always
cover the sleeves
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C#
From cuts from the Biebs, 'cause
D
D
B
B
Abm
Abm
he's puffin' the trees, please
D
D
G
G
B
B
Fuck I look like, got a new bike tire
D
D
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
C#
C#
on the same damn bus
Verse 5
Like "you're going to jail now!"
Bb
Bb
D
D
Bb
Bb
D
D
Bb
Bb
D
D
Ta male! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Bb
Bb
D
D
Bb
Bb
D
D
Why y'all so salty,
Ebm
Ebm
G#m
G#m
I do molly and zone
D#
D#
G#m
G#m
Can't agree bitch I'm on,
B
B
A#
A#
F#
F#
your boy is bad to the bone
Verse 6
F#
F#
C#
C#
D
D
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?
If a woodchuck could ever give a fuck?
C#
C#
D
D
Bitch suck dick, motherfuck you and your opinions,
G
G
D
D
(Can you kick it?)
Bb
Bb
Yes I can sir
D
D
Where the lump is sicker than
Cm
Cm
the last bar bold-er
D
D
I'm I'm a C.O. Colorado,
Cm
Cm
fuck Michael bitch I'm badder than my B.O.
A
A
D
D
Find me and Lance tryna
dance during chemo
C#m
C#m
C#
C#
Before they repossess our
D
D
B
B
D
D
strong arm bands and tuxedos
Verse 7
Bb
Bb
D
D
Bb
Bb
Yeah buddy, na na na na na na na
D
D
Bb
Bb
Golf wang, golf wang, go fuck you,
D
D
Ebm
Ebm
Bb
Bb
D
D
na na na na na na
Why y'all so salty
B
B
Abm
Abm
I do molly and zone
Eb
Eb
D
D
Can't agree, bitch I'm on
Abm
Abm
B
B
D
D
Your boy is bad to the bone
Verse 8
D
D
F#m
F#m
How many fags can a light bulb screw?
Abm
Abm
Well if I has a dick,
they be two's and sixes
G
G
And tell the NRA I'm about
to lose my shit
Em
Em
F#m
F#m
F#
F#
Shoot through Wayne Lapierre's
hair with a crucifix
F#m
F#m
D
D
How many ladies in the house?
F#m
F#m
How many ladies in the house
D
D
without a rich nigga, huh?
Verse 9
D
D
B
B
D
D
B
B
A little Jergens in
my palm for the jerkin'
F#m
F#m
Abm
Abm
Hope my mom don't catch me,
tryna set mood
D
D
Em
Em
Little Redtube, fuck lotion,
F#m
F#m
F#
F#
I don't need lub e, dry fit suits me
D
D
F
F
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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