Donnie Darko Chords by Cal Scruby, Sunzoo

_ _ Wake up _ _ _ _
_ _ [Cm] _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [C] _ _ _
_ _ [Cm] _ _ _ _ _ _
[C] _ _ [Cm] _ _ _ _ _ _
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_ I could probably get a deal with Kog
If I wasn't rappin' bout the pass back, that's dope
Got the offer and it's real low
Over one mil and it's still low
They all corporate, they all cute in suits
They on bullshit with all that poop to scoop
My shit goin' up, I go root the roof
They don't like that, they wanna mute the truth
They gon' switch sides, they go group to group
They wanna shoot the shit, ain't got shit [C] to shoot
Till I go [Cm] crazy, go and get the baby shark
And hit him with the doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo
Damn, big boy, you gotta shoot it with two hands
Couple John Doe come through like who's mans
Blue ball, nah, she blew it like two grams
Everyone I lose, abuse the fuse [G] hands
I'm right there on the edge of insanity
Overlooking Vegas, overthinking my vanity
You been throwing shade, I'm enjoying the canopy
Everybody dies so I live out a fantasy
Yeah, can I talk my shit now?
_ I was planning to hand [F] touch, fuck it up, it's a [Cm] hit now
_ Then I hit the road, do a show, hit a lick, then I skip town
_ Run up in the slide, no dancing, I make them all get down
We need to sit the fuck down _ _ _
_ I don't even talk my shit now unless I got a reason _
_ Everybody watching like Netflix got a new season _ _
I'ma get rich, hit the dealership, get the new bands out _
Bottom line, 316 like Stone Cold's head's up
They _ buried me alive, I was dead broke
I been living in the no flex [G] zone
About to make [Cm] a move, it's a escrow
Cooking in the kitchen, my sauce like magic
White pesto like presto
Off a little bean, that espresso
A little bit of lean like I'm [G] getting over chest cold
Yeah, I know chain, no, I can't chill
8 ball got me feeling like 8 mil
Can't stay [Cm] still, can't feel off a bank kill
Got the little orange pill, not the day quill
They fake with it, they ain't real
They talk about bricks but they can't build
I'm frank with it, I'm drank ill
I only sold gas, I'm Hank Hill
Tank filled with the propane, it's like a 10k grill
Let's go at it
They never ask if I'm okay, I'm never okay
Everybody wanna cut, it's a dry vocal
I'm anti-love, anti-social
I'm bipolar, I'm bicoastal
I might buy one and go postal
Can I talk [Ab] my shit now? _
[Cm] I was playing two hand touch, fuck it up, it's a hit now _
When I hit the road, do a show, hit a lick, then I skip town _
Run up in the spot, no dance, and I make them all get down
Boy, you better sit the fuck down _ _ _ _ _ _
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