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[Verse 1]
GRaise your hand if you Dlike American bCitches C Locked in girl on girl kGisses D Well, I Cdo Am
GYou're just mad you can't sDcore American bCitchesC So you're blowing up shit, Gwhich D Just goes to Cprove Am
That eiCghteen year old bAmombs are dynaGmite D Yes, eiCghteen year old bAmombs are dynaGmite D What kind of a mDan sits Indian style?
[Chorus]
GCamping with your bDros, as your playoff beard gCrows Ain't gonna gAmet your wack ass laid GCamping with your bDros, as your playoff beard gCrows Ain't gonna gAmet your wack ass laid Em Em
[Verse 2] Trust me holmes, you would kill for American bitches And the freedom of tits if You only knew, who-hoo That eighteen year old bombs are dynamite Yes, eighteen year old bombs are dynamite (What kind of a man sits Indian style?) [Chorus] [Verse 3]
CCome to Infidelphia And fAmall in love with the unholy GMy boy knows this stripper that looks jDust like Angelina Jolie
[Bridge]
CJust Don't bring uAmp What that cluGb You belong to dDoes... DDungeons & Dragons
[Chorus] [Outro]
GWhere I come fDrom bras are booby Ctraps Am x4 And soft targets have a bikini wax