Chords for Long Live Evil SciCo Screwjob (Official Music Video)

_ [G] AHHHHH, IF YOU'RE DOWN WITH THE [Gm] EVIL, THEN WE NEED TO KNOW [D] WHAT, _ THAT YOU [F] KISSED MY [G#] ASS
Time forever in the day, nah I ain't countin' to hit a blunt to the base [N] in them high space mount
Jump off edge, rest in case [F#] I'm back from the dead getting tombstone bet
All whacks with threat from the top your heart drop, at my rock bottom shot [G#] 2 marks
I do what I do.
[Gm] I mean, they said it was a shoot interview.
Super famous fun time, guys.
[G] It's sick.
For my young, young buck.
You feel a super kick.
You know that there be me puffin' a bag of reefer.
Put him down with a dragon [F#] sleeper.
You stoppin' L.L.E. that [C#] I'd have to see.
[N] My sharp shooter shatter your dreams.
No heart will [G] drop you dead in the rain.
I beam for the blood, put the red on the screen.
Let's [Gm] go.
No chance, no chance.
That's what you got.
You put L.L.E.
Hit the one, two, three.
And begin with the psycho suicide.
You got no chance,
no chance.
That's what you got.
You're all set, shawty.
It's about to get bloody.
I gotta [F#] dodge all the [Gm] panties
that the women throw.
[F#] Cause I'm the shit, bam, bam, dude's big and low.
[F#] Grow backstage ass, booker to pass the sugar.
I'll smash a hooker, faster to pass your [G] booger.
Tidal bow, going out top.
Boom, paint myself [F#] with a belt
from the top.
Whoa,
did my finish [B] and then she [Gm] either dead or out cold.
[F#] I'm the snake with the heads I collect
like [Gm] Al Snow.
Body of a god, same shape as Buddha.
You a disgrace, puke in your face,
great looter.
Kill in the [B] ring,
[G] but you're not right.
Nope.
Lord Christ, but you can catch a crossbody.
This [F#] shit is warfare.
There is no peace.
The plane is still [D#] chair.
In your dope piece.
[Bm] All the wild, taunt the crowd [G] while you read out.
If frogs splash your wrath,
you're the green cow.
No chance, no [Gm] chance,
that's what you got.
The LLB hit the one,
two, three, then you jam with your
psycho suit.
Shawty, you got
no chance, no chance,
that's what you got. _ _ _ _ _
It's about
to get bloody.
_ [F#] It's time to send them a bet.
[E] Marks need to scramble, but nothing locate
the exits before the nexus next year
with your next [A#] hit.
David Arquette shit,
then it's on to the next gig.
Bitch,
fuck you and your blit.
Get your smack
face backstage, popping off at the lip.
I ain't with the mundane lames, barely
making [F#] a name.
I'm here to change the [E] game
like Paul Lefesque had his sex re-arranged.
Bullshit!
There's a hole in my barn
that's all back tap.
All that you get in this
picking up my barn tap.
Hard ass?
[B] I've seen more heart in a car [F#] crash.
Don't rip the spine from your back now, that's a fucking
dark match.
Let me tell you something, brother, I highly doubt
that your mother gonna be cool with the
lucid or up and taking you from her.
Fine, I'm
gonna go for the cover, choke and smother and make
you suffer.
Send you to heaven, that's how
we'll [Gm] put you over, motherfucker.
No chance, no chance,
that's what you got.
It's the LME
hit the 1, 2, 3 in the fan
with your psycho's zoom shot.
You got
no chance, no chance,
that's what you got.
You're a
_ mother!
_ I'm hoping to climb the ever-seeing
sidewalk, botch a topi, silver ceiling
up on the [F#] top of the airing, crush a [Em] thing
or a tree, you'll [F#] still get fucked
from the [E] Morrison's stand.
The day hell
freezes over, you'll be over with fame.
[F#] You're a perfect left-back champ, top [N]-heeled
in the court, let me hear you cryin' all night.
Puffy, butter-sweet, you're gonna be a two [F#]-number
to Scott Steiner.
In the face of you
or not, I just might get [G] to China.
Here's your reminder, your venal [D] hall skills
cut and reaped the mid-card.
I got
spring wax from [B] Detroit to be a spark
and this dark [Bm] net has
[Gm] one stipulation, cast your mask
above this wall of position.
[F#] Smoke Thursday night, don't mess with Sunday [B] night
or you'll hate this night.
Often breaking glass
every time the [F#] lights are in L.L. [B].E. and we're [G] making a panic. _ We're making a panic. No chance, no chance, [Gm] that's what you got. Hit the L.L.E., [Em] hit the 1, 2, 3 in the fan with [G] your psycho's zoom shot. [B] No chance, no [Gm] chance, that's what you got. _ No chance, no chance, that's what you got. Take you out in a truck, leave you like a boy. Never call me up [F#] to take a berry to live. I'm Paul Pera, [Em] it's the Pera. Guess I curse poppers out [F#] of any face. They see me, that positive role model. Snoot in a beer, we go atomic with a leg drop. Wish you all the luck. Then break a leg with the same pop. [G] 78B from Sir Buckle to [F#] the spill. Take a pistol, shove it in your face and call me Rob [Gm] Pellman. I'm psyched to send you straight with a [F#] fucking cattle bar. Pass it on to gasoline, burn it down like a battle of the stars. Right to wrong, brownie, ronnie, strike the bar. Mix it up with music, play it back on the tire [G] draw. It's like a 10 gauge gas mask, switch, [F#] play it fast, pass it straight into your scalp, put your wig back. I'll write you facial pieces like a sentence called a syntax. We wreck you like Rikishi, you can stomp her [Gm] with a whiplash. No [F#] chance, no [C] chance, that's what you got. [B] Hit the one, two, three, do the jam with the [G] psychos, who's not too hot. No [Em] chance, no [Gm] chance, that's what you got. _ _ _ _ _ [G] People love to get funny. [D] Come up in a little monster truck, hit the gas, and topple over one by one. And Steve Austin said, oh, [N] he gonna say, what? _ [B] _ _ _ _ _ Long live Eve. _ _ [N] _