American Bitches

G                      D              C        C
Raise your hand if you like American bitches
                        G            D
Locked in girl on girl kisses
        C               Am
Well, I do
G                          D              C     C
You're just mad you can't score American bitches
                           G              D
So you're blowing up shit, which
             C             Am
Just goes to prove
       C                Am           G        D
That eighteen year old bombs are dynamite
       C                Am           G        D
Yes, eighteen year old bombs are dynamite
                D
What kind of a man sits Indian style?

G                  D                           C
Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows
             Am
Ain't gonna get your wack ass laid
G                  D                           C
Camping with your bros, as your playoff beard grows
             Am                    Em          Em
Ain't gonna get your wack ass laid

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?)

C
Come to Infidelphia
     Am
And fall in love with the unholy
G                                      D
My boy knows this stripper that looks just like Angelina Jolie

C
Just
             Am
Don't bring up
             G
What that club
               D
You belong to does...
D
Dungeons & Dragons

G             D                  C
Where I come from bras are booby traps
                  Am                           x4
And soft targets have a bikini wax

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