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Oh Bo

Bo Burnham

Text File

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
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