No More Parties In LA - Kanye West, guitar chords


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Published: 2022-12-21 18:47
Selection chords: Ethan Cooper



Tonality
G D Em C



G
La di da di da, da...
D
I like this flavor
Em
La di da di da, la...
C
Let me tell you
G
Iʼm out here from a very far away place
D
All for a chance to be a star
Em                      C
Nowhere seems to be too far!

G
No more parties in LA
D
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
Em
No more parties in LA
C
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
G
No more (Los Angeles)
D
Please (shake that body, party that body)
Em
Please (shake that body, party that body)
C
Please (shake that body, party that body)

G
Hey baby you forgot your Ray Bans
D
And my sheets still orange from your spray tan
Em
It was more than soft porn for the K-man
C
She remember my Sprinter, said "I was in the grape van"
G
Uhm, well cutie, I like your bougie booty
D
Come Erykah Badu me, well, letʼs make a movie
Em
Hell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler
C
I show you the ropes, connect the dots
G
A country girl that love Hollywood
D
Mama used to cook red beans and rice
Em
Now itʼs Dennyʼs, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite
C
Liquor pouring and niggas swarming your section with erection
G
Smoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians
D
R&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers
Em
Music and iPhone cameras
C
This shit unanimous for you, itʼs damaging for you, one thing
G
That pussy should only be holding exclusive rights to me, I mean
D
He flew you in this motherfucker on first class
Em
Even went out his way so you could check in an extra bag
C
Now you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math?
G
That shit donʼt add up, youʼre making them mad as fuck
D
She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper
Em
I said baby, spin that round and say the alphabet backwards
C
Youʼre dealing with malpractice,
donʼt kill a good niggaʼs confidence
G
Just cause he a nerd and you donʼt know what a condom is
D
The head still good though, the head still good though
Em
Ladies say "Nam Myoho Renge Kyo"
C
Make a nigga say big words and act lyrical, make me get spiritual
G
Make me believe in miracles, Buddhist monks
and Captain Crunch cereal
D
Lord have mercy, thou will not hurt me
Em
Five buddies all herded up on a Thursday
C
Bottle service, head service, I came in first place
G
The opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek
D
The pop community, I mean these bitches come with union fee
Em
And I walk through with ease, moving units through consumer streets
C
Then my shoe released, she was kicking in gratuity
G
And yeah G, I was all for it
D
She said K Lamar, you kind of dumb to be a poet
Em
Iʼmma put you on game for the lames
that donʼt know theyʼre a rookie
C
Instagram is the best way to promote some pussy

G
Scary, scary
D
No more parties in LA
Em
Please baby, no more parties in LA
C
Friday night tryna make it into the city
G
Breakneck speeds, passenger seat something pretty
D
Thinking back to how I got here in the first place
Em
Second class bitches wouldnʼt let me on first base
C
A backpack nigga with luxury taste buds
G
And a Louis Vuitton store, got all of my pay stubs
D
Got pussy from beats I did for niggas more famous
Em
When did I become a list? I wasnʼt even on a list
C
Strippers get invited to where they only get hired
G
When I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gonʼ get fired
D
I was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired
Em
And 3 Stacks, man, you preach it to the choir
C
Any rumor you heard about me was true and legendary
G
I done got Lewinsky and paid secretaries
D
For all my niggas with babies by bitches
Em
That use their kids as meal tickets
C
Not knowing the disconnect from the father
G
The next generation will be the real victims
D
I canʼt fault ʼem really
Em
I remember Amber told my boy no

matter what happens she ainʼt going back to Philly
C
Back to our regularly scheduled programminʼ
G
Of week content of slow jamminʼ
D
But donʼt worry, this oneʼs so jamminʼ
Em
You know that LA is so jamminʼ
C
I be thinkinʼ every day
G
Mulholland Drive, need to put up some got damn barricades
D
I be paranoid every time
Em
The pressure, the problem ainʼt I be drivinʼ
C
The problem is I be textinʼ
G
My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired
D
First song they played to me was ʼbout their friend
that just died
Em
Textinʼ and drivinʼ down Mulholland Drive
C
Thatʼs why Iʼd rather take the 405
G
I be worried ʼbout my daughter, I be worried ʼbout Kim
D
But Saint is baby Ye, I ainʼt worried ʼbout him
Em
I had my life threatened by best friends who had selfish intents
C
What Iʼm supposed to do?
G
Ride around with a bulletproof car and some tints?
D
Every agent I know know I hate agents
Em
Iʼm too black, Iʼm too vocal, Iʼm too flagrant
C
Something smellinʼ like shit, thatʼs the new fragrance
G
Itʼs just me, I Do it my way, bitch
D
Some days Iʼm in my Yeezys, some days Iʼm in my Vans
Em
If I knew yʼall made plans I wouldnʼtʼve popped the Xans
C
I know some fans who thought I wouldnʼt rap like this again
G
But the writerʼs block is over, emcees cancel your plans
D
Iʼm 38 years old, a 8 year old with rich nigga problems
Em
Tell my wife that I hate the road so I ainʼt never drivinʼ
C
It took 6 months to take the Maybach all matted out
G
And my assistance crashed as soon as they backed it out
D
Got damn, got up of fade, I might slam
Em
Pink fur, got Nori dressing like Cam, thank God for me
C
Whole family gettinʼ money, thank God for E!
G
I love rockinʼ jewelry, a whole neck full
D
Bitches say he funny and disrespectful
Em
I feel like Pablo when Iʼm workinʼ on my shoes
C
I feel like Pablo when I see me on the news
G
I feel like Pablo when Iʼm workinʼ on my house
D
Tell ʼem partyʼs in here, we donʼt need to Go out
Em
We need the turbo thots, high speed, turbo thots
C
Drop-drop-drop-drop it like Robocop
G
She brace herself and hold my stomach, good dickʼll Do that
D
She keep pushinʼ me back, good dickʼll Do that
Em
She push me back when the dick Go too deep
C
This good dickʼll put your ass to sleep
G
Get money, money, money, money
D
Big, big money, money, money, money
Em
And as far as real friends tell my cousins I love ʼem
C
Even the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker

G                          D
I just keep on lovinʼ you, baby
Em                                     C
And thereʼs no one else I know who can take your place

G
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
D
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
Em
No more parties in LA
C
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
G
No more parties in LA
D
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
Em               C
No more (Los Angeles)

G
Iʼm out here from a very far away place
D
All for a chance to be a star
Em                      C
Nowhere seems to be too far


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