Dominic Fike – All Hands On Deck (Guitar)

C Cmaj7 C7 Am7 F Fm
Mmm

C                 Cmaj7
I want your germs

C7             Am7
Sick is a word

             F       Fm
Death is a state of mind

      C   Cmaj7
Like time

                 C7    Am7
But I'm not, I'm real

             F
At least I think

Fm
Dare I say

C
You know cash is king out west

               Cmaj7
And mattresses open up as often as bugs land on bums

C7
Hands on

           Am7
We all dyin' out here

                                     F
But I smile out here in the face of death

                                      Fm
Funny how we all stuck but you can't connect

                                             C
And everybody looks at you and breaks their neck

                    Cmaj7
You can't even get arrested 'cause we all doin' it

C7
Hop to it, get sober

                            Am7
Now do it, now do it motherfucker

                     F
You gotta get to it fast, man

               Fm
You gotta come up with sum'

             C
Some type of fund, some type of trust

                       Cmaj7
But don't nobody trust nobody, so what the fuck?

   C7
So try your hardest, you stale and starvin'

Am7
Dyin' artist

                    F
You mailman, hotel front desk, workin' that same job

             Fm                                      C
Hopin' that same job pays off, but it don't make no difference

              Cmaj7
So make your livin', make your missus happy

    C7                      Am7
Go down on her, don't fuck around on her

                        F       Fm
I did, you see how that worked

             G      G7
Can I get a "luya"?

C          Cmaj7
Breathing

                          C7       Am7
I wanna help with your breathing

                      Fm
I wanna inhabit your safe zone (Safe zone)

G   C
Ah, leaving

                         Cmaj7
I think we're better off leaving

          C7       Am7
I wanna travel ya'

F Fm G C
Ooh