Fresh Outta London chords by Jake Paul

INTRO:   D Gm D A  x2


J-J-Joey

CHORUS:
D
I don't need new friends, I don't like fake friends
Gm
Only here to make M's, call when the check in (Check in)
D
I don't like partial, need a whole backend
A
Fresh outta London, she still got a accent

D
The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas
Gm
If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him
D
I got me a bad bitch, the cover of Maxim
A
The comments is shook up, they throwin' a tantrum, yeah

POST-CHORUS:
D               Gm                                                    D
Wrist is flooded, no competition, can't listen, ain't talkin' 'bout shit
D                       A                                            D
I'm lit, they know it, they wanna hate on the music but I'm makin' hits
D
These hunnids, I throw 'em,
Gm                                                D
I need like eighty a show, that's some minimum shit
D                                       A
I leave the house and I'm wearin' some shit
A
you can't get and I swear this shit cost like a brick

VERSE:
D
I've been runnin' up M's all week, I'm a vet
Gm
Quick trip for the bag, fell asleep on the jet
D
On a different time, this a Audemars Piguet
A
See eight bad bitches like the brand new 'Vette (Skrrt)

D
We gon' get 'em all, why the fuck I would I stress
A
Think I need rehab, I'm addicted to a check
D
And she gon' say it's love but she know I want the sex, bitch
Gm
Don't you dare leave a hickey on my neck

D
'Cause the Cullinan massage my back, I'm stressed (I'm stressed)
Gm
Stars in the roof, get the bitch undressed
D
With an ass like that, I forget my ex (Haha)
A
Racks like this meant that God, I'm blessed

D
I been on top, I should beat my chest
Gm
Tell you that she loyal, we gon' put her to the test
D
Wanna lose your bitch? Well, then be my guest
A
'Cause I been real cold in this Moncler vest



CHORUS:
D
I don't need new friends, I don't like fake friends
Gm
Only here to make M's, call when the check in
D
I don't like partial, need a whole backend
A
Fresh outta London, she still got a accent

D
The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas
Gm
If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him
D
I got me a bad bitch, the cover of Maxim
A
The comments is shook up, they throwin' a tantrum, yeah (Yeah)

POST-CHORUS:
D                  Gm                                                  D
Wrist is flooded, no competition, can't listen, ain't talkin' 'bout shit
D                      A                                          D
I'm lit, they know it, they wanna hate on the music but I'm makin' hits
D                          Gm                                              D
These hunnids, I throw 'em, I need like eighty a show, that's some minimum shit
D                                     A
I leave the house and I'm wearin' some shit
D
you can't get and I swear this shit cost like a brick