Tamale: accordi di
Tyler
Tyler
The Creator
The Creator

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