Tyler, The Creator – Sucka Free (Guitar)

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[Intro]

Bmaj9
This that Eastside, Hawthorne, ride down El Segundo to PCA shit

Bmaj9
Put your top down, sun beamin', for real, huh

[Chorus]

Bmaj9         A#7#5
I'm that guy, tryna get my paper, baby

D#7sus2          C#m7 F#7
I'm that guy for really

Bmaj9         A#7#5
I'm that guy, tryna get my paper, baby

D#7sus2          C#m7 F#7
I'm that guy for really (Yeah, ayy)

[Verse 1]

Bmaj9
Shitty backup (Ayy), got my racks up (Ayy, bro)

A#7#5
Baby-blue Bimmer, watch it back up

D#7sus2
Got my jewels on, sure I'm strapped up

C#m7               F#7             Bmaj9
We don't know you, nigga, back up (Uh-huh)

Bmaj9                                      A#7#5
Pockets full of chili like it's hot sauce (Uh-huh)

A#7#5
Niggas actin' silly just to pop off

D#7sus2
Hop off my dick, there's some hoes in here

    C#m7                       F#7
Odd Future, Wolf Gang, all the bros in here

           Bmaj9
You niggas bums, you never really figured it out

        A#7#5
You the type to let a bitch wear a shoe in your house (Hah)

        D#7sus2
You the type to buy a chain before some furniture, couch

            C#m7                      F#7                            Bmaj9
And you the type of nigga never had a fist hit your mouth (Bink-bink-bink, huh)

Bmaj9                                     A#7#5
You ain't got no guap, no paper, ain't no ink

A#7#5                                   D#7sus2
See, I'm that guy, give a fuck what you think (Nigga)

D#7sus2
So please keep that weirdo shit from me

         C#m7                         F#7
I'm just stackin' up my cheese, tryna stay sucker-free

[Chorus]

Bmaj9         A#7#5
I'm that guy, tryna get my paper, baby

D#7sus2          C#m7 F#7
I'm that guy for really

Bmaj9         A#7#5
I'm that guy, tryna get my paper, baby

D#7sus2          C#m7 F#7
I'm that guy for really

[Post-Chorus]

Bmaj9                             A#7#5               D#7sus2
I'm stackin' my ones on a Tuesday, I'm gettin' that paper

D#7sus2                            C#m7              F#7
I'm stackin' my ones on a week-end, I'm gettin' that paper

[Verse 2] N.C. Throw all the bums to the back, bitch, I'm dumb to the max N.C. I'm him, I'm that guy, run and tell that N.C. All that street talk corny, y'all rats N.C. Bro, you are a good man, what you know about that, nigga?

N.C.                     F#
It's weird and that's on my mommy

N.C. Hoes tell, we don't need no lobby N.C. Get the extras, ain't need no hobby

     D#7sus2
Drop the top, I'm never sloppy

D#7sus2         C#m7
Keep a thumper, brodie

C#m7               F#7
Can you please hop off my bumper, nigga?

[Chorus]

Bmaj9                             A#7#5
I'm that guy (Niggas weird, bro), tryna get my paper, baby

D#7sus2          C#m7 F#7
I'm that guy for really

Bmaj9         A#7#5
I'm that guy, tryna get my paper, baby

D#7sus2          C#m7 F#7
I'm that guy for really

[Post-Chorus]

Bmaj9                             A#7#5               D#7sus2
I'm stackin' my ones on a Tuesday, I'm gettin' that paper

D#7sus2                            C#m7              F#7                       Bmaj9
I'm stackin' my ones on a weekend, I'm gettin' that paper (What y'all niggas on, bro?)

Bmaj9                             A#7#5               D#7sus2
I'm stackin' my ones on a Tuesday, I'm gettin' that paper

D#7sus2                            N.C.              F#7
I'm stackin' my ones on a weekend, I'm gettin' that paper (Woo)

[Outro]

Bmaj9                         A#7#5
Mind your business, mind your figures, nigga

         D#7sus2                                     C#m7          F#7
Get your paper up and turn the goofy down, for real (Don't tap the glass)