I'm Bo Yo chords by Bo Burnham

• Capo on 5th

Tuning: Standard (E A D G B E)

Key: C

Difficulty: Novice

Verse:
C                        F
Now I don't know if all Boy Scouts are gays
           Am                               G
They could probably tie the knot in, like, fifty different ways
          C                              F
I got a safe full o' cherries, 'cause I pop it and lock it,
     Am                         G
A girl's like a fridge, once a week, you should stock it.
            C                                 F
And girl, if you're into rimmin', it's only safe if you're swimmin',
                  Am                                    G
But, girl, don't sit on that couch 'cause I treat my objects like women.
   C                F
I spit fire like I just blew a demon,
    Am                              G
My shit's so hot, I'll leave your toilet bowl steamin'.
C                                  F
Girl I'm gonna tear it, like the cards of the gypsies,
         Am                            G
You'll bleed for so long you'll get monthly ellipses.
C                    F
If your pants are loose, I'll replete ya.
           Am                        G
You're a first time vegan and it's nice to meet ya.

Chorus:
C
I'm Bo, yo,
            F
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
           Am                               G
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not
 C
Think you're better, you're not,
       F
Don't need a sweater, I'm hot,
           Am                  G
I'm a real G-shawty that can really find your G-spot.
C        F
Woah, yeah...
Am       G
... Hey, what the fuck's a G-spot?

Verse:
          C                    F
Go to a vagina orchard, count one, two, three.
      Am                          G
Spin that plant around you got a third-world country
C                 F
That's right, consider yourself warned,
         Am                      G
I'm offensive and creative like handicapped porn.

           C                         F
You're playing with your breasts, excuse me, can I try it ma'am?
         Am                           G
You're pushin' 'em together like a titty venn diagram.
C                       F
Look at that crack, excuse me can I buy a gram?
Am                           G
Right below your diaphragm, ass looks like you're hidin' ham.

C                    F
First base, we're making out.
Am                         G
Second base, I'm getting faked out.
       C                        F
Said, third base, I'm getting take out.
        Am                         G
And I'd try to take it home if I knew I'd take it out,

       C                         F
But I just don't know, I said I just don't care,
            Am                      G
I said my flow's so cold I need a tampon from a polar bear.
C                      F
And you can spell and smell my stink,
Am                    G
B.O. lingers and it makes you think.

Chorus:
C
I'm Bo, yo,
            F
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
           Am                               G
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
C
Think you're better, you're not,
       F
Don't need a sweater, I'm hot,
              Am               G
I'm a real G-shawty that can really find your G-spot.
C        F
Woah, yeah...
Am                     G
... provided that you point me in the general direction.

        C                         F
'Cause girls are like donuts when I be bustin' Bo nuts,
     Am                                      G
I can make 'em cream-filled or give them a layer of glaze.
           C                        F
I'm like Doug's friend Skeeter whenever I meet her,
            Am                       G
Because I skeet her so hard people call her Patty Mayonnaise.
C                      F
(Oh, Nickelodeon and cum, what?)

C                         F
I'm blowin' up like I thought I would,
      Am                       G
I'm circumcised 'cause I don't cum from the hood.
  C                            F
My girl is epileptic cause she's the one I'm jerkin with,
      Am                             G
Come on, you Asian child-laborer, show me what you're workin' with.
C            F
Ooh, large machinery.

                     C                     F
'Cause there's an inverse relationship between respect and sects
      Am                           G
I'm talking 'bout religious sects like a Mormon sect,
                C                    F
That says you can't have sex with members of different sects,
          Am                   G
but you can't have sex with members of the same sex,
             C                              F                           Am                    G
So if the sects can't be different and the sex can't be same, then the only sex left is some left-hand shame.
C                               F                       Am                               G
And girl I left you cause you left the game and if that don't feel right, then you can write my name.

Chorus:
C
I'm Bo, yo,
            F
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
           Am                               G
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
C
Think you're better, you're not,
F
Don't need a sweater, I'm hot,
           Am           G
I'm a real G that can really find your G-spot.
C        F
woah, yeah... oh, but I'm inadequate.
Am                   G                       C
Have I gotten that point across yet? How original

Verse:
        C                       F
Yo, my junk's so long that it hangs and swings,
           Am                            G
So at the nude beach people think I'm lookin for lost rings.
C                          F
Play the skin flute, your big boy sings,
     Am                               G
And if you want to take it all, wear African neck-rings.
C                                F
(They make your neck longer 'cause my... fuck it)

C                         F
Haters call me gay, but that ain't hatin'.
            Am                 G
'Cause I'm not homophobic, my morals are straight,
        C                       F
And if I'm in the closet, then you are below me,
           Am            G
Taking the B-A-T out of basement, homie

Chorus:
C
I'm Bo, yo,
            F
And I'm the greatest rapper ever,
           Am                               G
And I'll weather your weather whether you think I'm clever or not,
C
Think you're better, you're not,
F
Don't need a sweater,
       Am                G
I'm a real G that can really find your what now.
C     F
Oh, yeah