Calabama

Intro: 
D   Bm7 
Whoo 
D 
 Uh, uh, uh 

Come on, yeah 
D 
All the pretty ladies just clap your hands 
Bm7 
Clap your hands, clap your hands 
D 
All the pretty ladies just clap your hands 



[Verso 1]
 
D 
I just got some news today 
Bm7 
Everything I wished for came my way 
D 
Love and peace and big money 
Bm7 
More new members in the family 
D 
Haters finally dropped their guns 
Bm7 
Wasn't loaded anyway, scared no one 
D 
Went from ten bodyguards to none 

If they don't read, then posse no fun 
    D 
But here come Calibama talkin' mo' stuff 
Bm7 
Guess a hundred million records ain't enough 
D 
All-Stars ar comin' from the first to last 

Anybody don't can 
     D 
Stay quiet while I bring th noise 
Bm7 
We just got some brand new toys 
D 
If y'all ready just show me love 

Watch Calibama get bugged 
 


[Refrão]
 
D    Bm7 
 Uh, all the pretty ladies just clap your hands 
D 
 All the funky brothers dance to my band 
D    Bm7 
 Ha, NPG cuttin' up your rug, uh 
D 
 Uh, watch Calibama get bugged 
 


[Verso 2]
 
D 
Verbal coat in flattery 
Bm7 
Drum machine electricity 
D 
Every time I look I see 

Another facsimile 
D 
Pick and drumstick not in hand 
Bm7 
See no music on the stand 
D 
 Grab your partner, gather 'round 

This is how we all get down 
 


[Refrão]
 
D 
 Whoo 
Bm7 
All the pretty ladies just clap your hands 
D 
 All the funky brothers dance to my band 
D     Bm7 
 NPG, NPG cuttin' up your rug 
D 
 Uh, lawd 

Watch Calibama get bugged, come on 
 


[Pós-Refrão]
 
D     Bm7 
 Horns 
D 
Uh 
     D 
Horns 
Bm7      D 
   Uh, uh 
 


[Verso 3]
 
           Em            E 
Uh, like a rim shot on a New Roots joint 

My band's tight, yeah 
 Em       E 
Anointed, all natural 

Pass my tape, go straight to jail 
     Em                 E 
And another thing, when I sing 

Black and white hold hands 

Start clappin' when we enter the jam 
     Em                 E 
Back dance if you wanna just clap your hands 

Here we come, y'all, uh 
         Em 
Prisoner Band, good God 
 


[Refrão]
 
Em 
  All the pretty ladies just clap your hands 
Em 
  All the funky brothers dance to my band 
Em 
  Uh, New Power G, yeah, we got a new drug 
Em 
  Here we come, y'all, Prisoner Band 
Em 
Look out 
 


[Verso 4]
 
Em           E 
Happy 'cause we just got paid 

Free from all contracts 
                             Em 
Chillin' in the shade of the sun's light 
E 
Oh, we got it right 

Distribute your own, make a mil' overnight 
           Em              E 
Before the tax come, quick buy some land 

Don't build nothin', just clap your hands 
Em                        E 
Don't build nothin', just clap your hands 

Here we come, y'all, uh 
              Em 
Prisoner Band 

Ha, Prisoner Band 
Em 
  Oh, hear me now 
 


[Verso 5]
 
Em 
Record labels used to be a friend of mine 
F#m 
Now they're just a monumental waste of time 
Em 
Sell a million records, make a dollar a pop 
       F#m 
You're still on recruit when your band get dropped 
Em 
Got your own label but you're givin' 'em half 
  F#m 
Expenses off the top, who's takin' a bath? 
Em 
Seven years of grind like it's only your name 

Is what you pay to keep yourself a slave to that game 
 

Outro: 
    A 
And what you can't do alone is not worth the fame 
G#m 
All of y'all get older but I still look the same 
C#m 
Too funky, y'all can't understand 
C#m 
   Just clap your hands, just clap your hands 
                 C#m 
Uh, the Prisoner Band