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Intro (spoken):
I feel like hip hop
Used to be a voice for the voiceless,
And now it's become, at least in the mainstream,
A symbol of misogyny, gay panic, fiscal irresponsibility.
So I figure,
If you can't beat 'em,
Join 'Em.
Ab
Hittin' the club up VIP
Eb
I got a fake mustache and a fake ID.
F
I look like Wooly Willy
C#
With a really wooly willy.
Ab
And I bypass the bouncer,
Eb
Pass by an ex and I flex and bounce her, wowser.
F
Look at all of Bo's hoes
C#
Looking for a ride on Bo's hose.
Ab
And I spot a little Latino, booty so big call it Oprah's ego.
Eb
We go to it, through it, she says, "Dios mio mi amigo!"
F
Pull it out, stick it in your mouth, and I bust in the back of ya.
C#
Swallow bitch, there's people starving in Africa!
(CHORUS)
Ab
Single every single day
Eb
Do it every single way
F
Make the single ladies say
C#
Oooh Bo
Ab
And if I were gay,
Eb
Though I swear I'm straight,
F C#
I'd make them fellas say...
Ab
You're an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top,
Eb
But careful, cherry, 'cause I'm the King of Pop.
F
Pop pop pop goes my weasel,
C#
Now ya looking like Jackson Pollock's easel.
Ab
My suggestion is:
Eb
You don't blow 'til you know what congestion is,
F
Swallow when you know what digestion is.
C#
Follow Bo, the only question is:
Ab
Have you been splattered before
Eb
By the mad-hatter matador?
F
Cake-batter never more
C#
It don't matter whether you're
Ab
Spanish, French,
Eb
Swedish or Cambodian,
F
I'll slime you so hard you could be on Nickelodeon.
(CHORUS)
Ab
You think that you can handle me?
Eb
Girl, don't make me laugh.
F
I said my junk is bipolar
C#
It will split you in half (yea).
Ab
And if you're lucky,
Eb
I might just bring you home,
F
And I'll have you going down
C#
Like you're growin' an extra chromosome.
Ab
And when you love me,
Eb
Don't grab me by the buns
F
'Cause I got a bad case of the ruunnnns.
C#
I got the runs
I got the ru-u-u-uuuns
(CHORUS)
(Spoken)
(The rhythm in this part is kinda hard to tab out. It is still the same chords,
just a different rhythm)
I wanna break it down for ya'll
I came from the streets, with nothin'
Now I'm makin' hit records
For my people still livin' in the streets,
Still livin' in poverty, I wanna tell you
I'm doin' this for you.
My success is your success.
And I know you may be thinkin',
Hey, if you really believe that,
Why don't you use some of your money
To help rebuild the neighborhood
Instead of putting spinning rims on a gold jet ski?
And to that I say (uh, chorus is comin' out):
(CHORUS)
Ab
You gotta fume like a tuna,
Eb
I'll smell ya later.
F
I met a fat chick
C# F
And fucked her in an elevator.
Ab Eb
It was wrong on so many levels.
F C#
It was wrong on so many le-le-le-levels.
Ab Ab
It was wrong on so many levels (ugh).
Ab (Transition up to Bb)
It was wrong on, it was wrong on, it was wrong on
(NEW CHORUS)
Bb
Single every single
F
Do it every single
G
Pop that single like a Pringle jingle
Eb
Oooh Bo
Bb
This song's almost completed
F
All this little ditty needed
G
Instrument that's double reeded:
Eb
The oboe
(Yea)
Oh, Bo
Play that oboe
