No More Parties In LA - Kanye West, acordes de ukelele

Publicado: 2022-12-21 18:47
Seleccion acordes: Ethan Cooper

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

F#
No more parties in LA
C#
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
D#m
No more parties in LA
B
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
F#
No more (Los Angeles)
C#
Please (shake that body, party that body)
D#m
Please (shake that body, party that body)
B
Please (shake that body, party that body)

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

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

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

F#                          C#
I just keep on lovinʼ you, baby
D#m                                     B
And thereʼs no one else I know who can take your place

F#
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
C#
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
D#m
No more parties in LA
B
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
F#
No more parties in LA
C#
Please baby no more parties in LA, uh
D#m               B
No more (Los Angeles)

F#
Iʼm out here from a very far away place
C#
All for a chance to be a star
D#m                      B
Nowhere seems to be too far