Everybody'S Something

Chance The Rapper

0%


Start

Intro
Eb Fm Cm 
     

                               Cm 
Ladies loving my music is like some sex shit 

                                          G7 
Niggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick 

                                              G7 
Run around the corner to pick up the new shit  


Verse
     Ab C7 G C7 Cm   Ab Cm 
Toss        this     in the deck so niggas can catch rep 


Ladies loving my music is like some sex shit 


Niggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick 

Cm 
Run around the corner to pick up the new shit 

                         Ab     C7 
Toss this in the deck so niggas   can catch rep 

                                      C7 
What's good good And what's good evil  

                                         C7 
And what's good gangstas And what's good people 

                                                  C7 
And why's God phone die every time that I call on Him 

                                                   C7 
If his son had a Twitter if one day I would follow Him 

                                             C7 
Swallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon  

                                           C7 
Keep all them sentiments down to a minimum  

                 G7                          A7 
Studious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him  

                                             C7 
Pics of they genitalia tallied up ten of 'em  

                                                C7 
I slurped too many painkills down I'm off a lot  

                     Ab 
I got a lot off days but it ain't often that I'm off the clock 

                                  Ab 
Ya Kna Wha Mean I got the Chicago Blues 

                                       G7 
We invented rock before the Stones got through 


We just aiming back cause the cops shot you 

G7 
Buck buck bang bang yelling Fuck Fox News 


Booyaka buckle up mothafuck opps too 

G7 
Ain't no knuckling up 'em young cause it just not cool 

G7 
Nice to see you Father New Year 

                    G7 
Middle finger Uncle Samuel 


Shooting death with weighted dice 

                               G7 
And hitting stains on birthday candles 

                                  G7 
I know somebody somebody loves my ass 

                                  G7 
Cause they help me beat my demons ass 


Chorus
            C7                    Ab 
Everybody's somebody's everything  

  C7 
I know you right 

G7       G7         C7 
Nobody's   nothing  


That's right 

            G7         Ab 
Everybody's somebody's   everything 

  G7 
I know you right 

                 C7 Ab 
Nobody's nothing    

Cm     Ab 
That's right 

            Cm         Ab 
Everybody's somebody's   everything 

Fm 
That's right 

Cm       Ab 
Nobody's   nothing 

      F7 
Right Know you're right 


Verse
C7                Cm                       Ab 
  I used to tell hoes I was dark light or off white 

                   C7 
But I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white 


And both my parents was black 

         C7 
But they saw it fit that I talk right 


With my drawers hid but 

                    C7 
My hard head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite 

                   C7 
But gravity had me up in a submission hold 

                                                       C7 
Like I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon toed 


In two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole 


And two missing toes 


But it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe 

C7 
Nice to see you Father New Year 


Middle finger Uncle Samuel 


Shooting death with weighted dice 


And hitting stains on birthday candles 

Cm                                Eb 
I know somebody somebody loves my ass 


Chorus

Cause they help me beat my demons ass 


Like Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over 

                 Eb 
The type to love from a distance not the type that told her 

                        Cm7 
Spent three days on the rap trash it and type it over 

                                         Eb 
With babies on the block under arms like fighting odors 


Coppers and quotas 


Hold ya head like twoPac had taught 


Obviously they are on a come up 

                    Eb 
With better chances tobogganing in the fucking summer 


Concoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones 


All odds against we tryna get lucky 

      Cm7 
Doper than Lucky 

       Eb 
You're a tugging 


Like Satan masturbating shit come hot 


But y'all still love me ugh 

                Ab 
How father time a deadbeat 


Maybe I'm adopted 

                              Cm7                   Eb 
That'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless uuugh 


Everybody's somebody's everything 


Nigga Nobody's nothing 

      Ab 
Nigga Everybody's somebody's everything 


Nigga Nobody's nothing at all 

       Fsus4 
Wutang Everybody's somebody's everything 


That's right 

         Bb 
Nobody's nothing 


I know you're right 


Outro
Eb Ab Bb Eb 
       


End
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