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Verse:
Dm                         Em
What do you think my brain is made for
     Am
Is it just a container for the mind
      Dm                  Em        Am
This great grey matter
Dm                 Em
Sensei replied what is your woman
       Am                                         
Is she just a container for the child 
   Dm                      Em   
That soft pink matter
               Am
Cotton candy Majin Buu
 Dm                      Em               Am
Close my eyes and fall into you
Dm                     Em                  Am
My god shes giving me pleasure


Dm                            Em
What if the sky and the stars are for show
             Am
And the aliens are watching live
             Dm            Em        Am
From the purple matter
Dm                         Em           
Sensei went quiet then violent
            Am                                            
And we sparred until we both grew tired 
Dm                   Em       
Nothing mattered
            Am
Cotton candy Majin Buu
Dm                  Em          Am   
Dim the lights and fall into you
                            Dm
My god giving me pleasure
               Em                     Am
Pleasure pleasure pleasure
Dm                   Em       Am
Pleasure over matter


-SAME CHORD PATTERN Dm Em Am-

Verse:
Since you been gone
I been having withdrawals
You were such a habit to call
I aint myself at all had to tell myself naw
Shes better with some fella with a regular job
I didnt wanna get her involved
By dinner Mr. Benjamin was sitting in awe
Hopped into my car drove far
Fars too close and I remember
My memories no sharp
Butter knife, what a life, anyway
Im building yall a clock, stop
What am I Hemingway?
She had the kind of body
That would probably intimidate
Any of em that were un-southern
Not me cousin
If models are made for modeling
Thick girls are made for cuddlin
Switch worlds and we can huddle then
Who needs another friend
I need to hold your hand
Youd need no other man
we d flee to other lands

Grey matter
Blue used to be my favorite color
Now I ain't got no choice
Blue matter

Youre good at being bad
Youre bad at being good
For heavens sakes go to hell
Nah knock on wood
Youre good at being bad
Youre bad at being good
For heavens sakes go to hell
Knock knock knock knock on wood
Well frankly when that ocean so motherxxxxing good
Make her swab the motherxxxxing wood
Make her walk the motherxxxxing plank
Make her rob a motherxxxxing bank
With no mask on and a rusty revolver
This arrangement for the song is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the song. You may only use this for private study, scholarship, or research. UkuWorld and its derivatives do not own any songs, lyrics or arrangements posted and/or printed.

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