Cowboy Chords - Kid Rock | KhmerChords.Com

Verse 1

E E Well I'm packing up my game and I'mma head out west E E Where real women come equipped with scripts and fake breasts A A Find a nest in the Hills, chill like Flynt A A Buy an old drop-top find a spot to pimp

Verse 2

E And I'mma kid-rock it up and down your block E With a bottle of scotch and watch lots of crotch B7 Buy a yacht with a flag sayin' "Chilling the Most" A7 Then rock that bitch up and down the coast

Verse 3

E Give a toast to the sun, drink with the stars E Get thrown in the mix and tossed out of bars A Slip to Tijuana, I wanna roam A Find Motown and tell them fools to come back home

Verse 3

E Start an escort service for all the right reasons E And set up shop at the top of Four Seasons B7 Kid Rock and I'm the real McCoy A7 And I'm headed out west sucker because I wanna be a

Chorus

E Cowboy baby E With the top let back and the sunshine shining E Cowboy baby E West Coast chilling with the Boone's wine A I wanna be a Cowboy baby A Riding at night 'cause I sleep all day E Cowboy baby B7 A7 I can smell a pig from a mile away

Verse 4

E I bet you'll hear my whistle blowing when my train rolls in E It goes (whistle) like dust in the wind A Stoned pimp, stoned freak, stoned out of my mind A I once was lost, but now I'm just blind

Verse 5

E Palm trees and weeds, scabbed knees and rice E Get a map to the stars, find Heidi Fleiss B7 And if the price is right then I'm gonna make my bid boy A7 And let Californ-i-a know why they call me a

Chorus

Verse 6

E yeah..Kid Rock, you can call me Tex E Rollin Sunset woman with a bottle of Beck's A Seen a slimmy in a 'Vette, rolled down my glass A And said, "Yeah this dick fits right in your ass."

Verse 7

E No kidding, gun slinging, spurs hitting the floor E Call me hoss, I'm the boss, with the sauce and the whores B7 No remorse for the sheriff, in his eye I ain't right A7 I'mma paint his town red, then paint his wife white

Verse 8

E Cause chaos, rock like Amadeus E Find West Coast pussy for my Detroit players A Mack like mayors, ball like Lakers A They told us to leave, but bet they can't make us

Verse 9

E Why they wanna pick on me E Lock me up and snort away my key B7 I ain't no G I'm just a regular failure A7 I ain't straight outta Compton A7 I'm straight out the trailer

Verse 10

E Cuss like a sailor, drink like a mick E My only words of wisdom are just radio edit suck my dick B7 I'm flicking my Bic up and down that coast A7 And keep on trucking 'til I fall in the ocean

Chorus

Outro