Chords for Ryan Upchurch "Can I get a Outlaw” OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO

[F#] Well, as the rebel's gone, [C#] she don't need [F#] another pretty boy singing pretty songs.
[C#] Fake job-sweeping boys [B] doing [F#] concrete all wrong.
[C#] Another haggard or [B] Johnny [F#] Cash, somebody chewing back.
Whipping [C#] ass, I need a breaker.
[B] I need a savior, [F#] how about y'all?.
Can I get [C#] a outlaw?.
Let me get a [C#m] outlaw like the man who raised [C#] me up.
Hauling chickens through [C#m] Kentucky in the back of beat-up [C#] trucks.
Because all I'm seeing now is Hollywood wearing some Haunted gear.
And TV shows about idiots that think country is flaking beer.
Sick of seeing [C#m] skinny jeans smiling like a cover girl.
[C#] I wanna see [C#m] some kids out back with [C#] 22s popping squirrels.
I wanna see some gun guns going out on the duck.
An investor of this rapid burn and acting like a lazy bum.
Cause trends got it [C#m] twisted and they make country a [C#] penny stock.
Now where's all my [C#m] country folks that actually could [C#] go survive?.
When that stock market crashes, I'll be somewhere deep off Indy Pines.
Killing shit, picking ass, and taking what the hell it might.
Well, as the rebel's gone, she don't need [C#m] another [F#] pretty boy singing pretty songs.
[C#] Fake job-sweeping [B] boys [F#] doing concrete all wrong.
[C#] Another [B] haggard or Johnny [F#] Cash, somebody chewing back.
Quit playing [C#] ass, I need a breaker.
[B] I need a savior, [F#] hat and mask, y'all.
Can I get [C#] a hat and mask?.
I got slaughters on my [C#m] knuckles from a lap out in the [C#] parking lot.
Rifles in my [C#m] back from so-called friends that tend to [C#] lie a lot.
There's snakes up in the grass, but bullet shit, I'm used to walking tall.
And if I feel you talking shit, well second guess the Jackie Chow.
Today the world we [C#m] live in, realness tends to wash and [C#] fade away.
That's why if you ain't [C#m] walking shit, then I don't care for [C#] shit you say.
I met the folks I idolize, and so far there's some white-ass lies.
This country faking good disguise, I tell me how that tends to fly.
I'm on my southern [C#m] ride, twang, baby, come and [C#] roll with me.
Backwoods, as it [C#m] gets, and not the shit that you see [C#] on TV.
I'm talking Chevy, speed, 10, picking up some brown rocks.
30-ounce sticks with a seat of stained wood.
Well, as the [C#m] rebel's gone, she don't need another [F#] pretty boy singing pretty songs.
[C#] Fake job-sweeping [B] boys [F#] doing concrete all wrong.
[C#] [B] [F#] Can't somebody chew in back?.
[C#] I need a preacher.
[B] I need a savior.
[F#] How about y'all?.
Can [C#m] I get a ride?.
I stay coming in like a rock, so they be calling me the [C#] Spice Girl.
Cornbread [C#m] fed, and you know I'm raising [C#] penny heads.
I'm turnt up like some hokies at a peg-a-party in a hotel.
And I'm breaking down these barriers like drywall in these street pairs.
I'm cold with my [C#m] shit, boy.
I'm cold with my [C#] style, boy.
That Backwoods, that [C#m] Hicktown, that late night, that [C#] driving rap.
That George Strait crank real loud, got lightning bugs on my windshield.
That back road, no pops found, and I'm sipping on that hot crap.
I wreck shit, my [C#m] motto, got red nicks by the truckload.
That smell good, stay sprayed on a hit, downtown to take [C#] girls home.
That bonfire, light that up, homegrown shit, roll one.
I got a gun rack in my back glass and a big gun at home, boy.
Can't somebody chew in back?.
I need a [F#] preacher.
I need a savior.
Fake [C#] job-sweeping [B] boys [F#] doing concrete all wrong.
[C#] You got another haggard.
[F#] Honey, can't somebody chew in back?.
Quit playing ass, [C#] honey, and bring her.
[B] I need a savior, how [F#] about y'all?.
Can [C#] I get a round of applause?.
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