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ALL YOU CAN DO Music by Vicky Nguyen ft. Jimetta Rose & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

VERSE

D min7 E min7 F Maj7 G 7sus4 A 7sus4 D min7 E min7 F Maj7 G 7sus4 A 7sus4

Verse 1: 4x Verse 2: 6x Vocals 4 . . & 4 . [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

Ad lib fill Ad lib fill 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & 4 . œ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ’ ’ ’ ’ . Piano 4 œ œ œ œ ? 4 . œ œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ’ ’ ’ ’ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

CHORUS

D min7 E min7 F Maj7 G 7sus4 A 7sus4 D min7 E min7 F Maj7 G 7sus4 A 7sus4

to Verse Vox. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & . ‰ œ ‰ œ œ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ ‰ J Œ . All you can do is all you can do is all you can do is all you can do is

Ad lib fill Ad lib fill œ œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . & . œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ’ ’ ’ ’ . Pno. ? œ œ œ œ . œ œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ ’ ’ ’ ’ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

Verse 1 Verse 2 Happy’s not a faucet that’ll flow when a handle So pour that liquor out. I never chickened out is turned But if got to make a second pick I’d take a I wanna handle my shit, but it hasn’t occurred different route I need the stamina, keep on like my grandma- But a grip of my decisions pretty Mickey ma Mouse When I’m not on camera I gotta be a man of I tried to join the 27 Club, they kicked me out my word It was like I’m limpin into heaven while my dick And be a greater guy, not some thin-as-paper is out guy And there’s Amy Winehouse sittin on a cloud Like the times that Georgie Porgie kissed the and drinking stout girl and made her cry But she spits it out the moment I come gliding Saying “see ya later, bye.” Shit I say is pretty in strange She’s all like, “come on Joplin, who the fuck Coming back for Christmas and we bitch on invited him?! how the city changed Hide all of the Heinekens!” No, they don’t Fuck it, man, we’re changing too. Look at what know my name we’re going through My heart is lowkey broken so I’m takin Novo- Mama used to buy me shirts she said that I cain would grow into And Jimmy Morrison (the Doors), and Brian But it’s draping on me like an apron or a cape, Jones, you know, the Stones a great tsunami wave of cotton that I’m caught are joking, toking on a roach playing poker in that she bought at Ross—I know the cost of game it was probably awesome but my style is sorta I know that I’m a bastard. The walls are ala- sloppy baster I’ll fit it when I blossom like a California Poppy Jimi plays his Stratocaster jamming out with The tears are freezing on my cheek in Boston Kurt Cobain out in Copley They’re playing Purple Rain, or maybe Purple And I don’t really know why, no I don’t really Haze know why And Kurt says, “How the fuck they let this jerk in with his hurtful ways?” Chorus I try to jump and spread my wings like I’m a All you can do is all you can do is all you can bird of prey do is all you can do is… But I hit the earth and break a mothafucka’s vertebrate (hey) I guess I’m fucking up the blueprint for success Woke up in the hospital with Jimi’s bootprint on my chest This recklessness, no common senses I Kamikaze, there’s consequences I don’t condone it, but I did it, I’ma own it I’ve been living for the moment gotta go (go!) STAND FOR SOMETHING Music by Pat Dimitri ft. Anderson .Paak & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

G C G/B CHORUS

Vocals # 4 Ó Œ ‰ j œ Œ Œ ‰ j & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ I ne - ver been a one to play it cool I ne - ver been a fan of fan - A min E min G

# j œ œ . . & œ œ œ ‰ Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. ˙. Œ - cy shoes I on - ly wan - na stand for some - thin' C G/B

# œ œ œ œ œ œ & ∑ œ œ œ œ œ Ó œ œ I don't care if they ap - prove They don't know what I've

A min E min G

j œ # œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. 2 ˙ 4 & J J œ œ œ 4 ˙ 4 been through I on - ly wan - na stand for some - thin'

VERSE

# 4 & 4 [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

Gtr. # & 4 œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó

Gtr.

3 5 3 3 3 3 3 5 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 5 5 5 5 5 7 3

# & ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ œ Gtr. # œ œ & œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó ≈ œ œ œ Ó œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ œ Ó

Gtr. 7 5 7 9 3 5 3 3 3 3 3 5 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 5 3 3 3 3 3 5 2 3 3 3 5 5 5 5 5 7 3

Chorus Verse 2 Never been the one to play it cool We struttin I never been a fan of fancy shoes Ain’t nobody gotta tell us nothing I only want to stand for something Because a rose is a rose and I am what I am I don’t care if they approve And I wear it like campaign button They don’t know what I’ve been through I don’t want a side eye I only want to stand for something I say bye bye Roll up another one and hand me a Mai tai Verse 1 Because the people who be running the show What was I thinking when I headed to SoCal? Are kinda like the season how they come and Everybody gotta order the low-cal or no-cal they go meal And we’ll be living while they looking for park- I don’t even enjoy guilt ing I think the city turned my semen to soymilk And we’ll be digging while they woofing and But I’m a motherfuckin hypocrite barking Acting like I never give a shit They kicking in the door and hoping to barge But now I think about it maybe a tad bit in Cause pretty baby I be ready to admit But this is what you get there’s nothing to bar- I’m thinking maybe I will never be Brad Pitt gain Want the celebrity? You gotta be bat shit If it’s a hundred to one and we’re under the To want to be a piece of meat, we treat em as gun cold cuts I’m not gonna be groveling for the governor’s But go nuts when we see em wiping their own pardon butts Don’t gotta suck in your gut if you want to And the crowd goes wild guzzle a Bud But we don’t smile if you got no style I’m about it baby, you can party with us Gotta be kidding me, giving the pretty people the key to the city I don’t even know BET AGAINST ME Music by Jose Rios Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO 2 bars of drum groove Vocals # # # 4 ∑ ∑ & 4 ’[RAP] ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

VERSE

Vox # # & # ’ ’ ’ ’ . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

Gtr. # # # Ó ‰ j . Œ ≈ Œ ‰ j & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w ˙. œ ˙. œ œ œ Gtr. . 7 9 7 9 9 9 7 . 5 2 5 7 9 9 9 7

1. 2. Vox # # & # ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . ’ ’ ’ ’

Gtr. # # # Œ . & j œ œ ≈ ≈ Œ ‰ j œ œ . j œ ‰ w ˙ œ œ ˙. œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ Gtr. . 7 9 7 9 7 9 9 2 5 7 9 9 9 7 . 9 9

B min D C#min D E C#min BRIDGE 4fr. 4fr.

Vox # # & # . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . œ œ œ œ œ œ # # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & # . œ œ œ œ œ œ . ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ œ Pno. ˙ ˙ œ ˙ ˙ œ ? # # # . ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w . ˙ ˙ w ˙ ˙ w

Verse Paul Watsky interview You will if you didn’t feel it before …I’m playing with the house’s money now, Ever since I was a kid never really been bored cause I thought we were on our way out Swinging from building to building with my during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I was, ah, umbilical chord in my late teens—I fell asleep waiting for the But they don’t know what I really endured missile to fall dead center on my apartment, They say Godzilla been summoned but we’re crash through the ceiling, and that was gonna not running be the end of everything. And I was amazed Attila the Hun is coming, we’re killin his horde when I woke up the next morning and I was Spilling my innards, I fell on my sword still alive… And now my blood is filling up from ceiling to floor Chant (x2) I’m swimming though it, I’m swallowing fluid If you want to lose your home (Bet against me) Knew I had to do it so I grew like a million gills And every penny you own (Bet against me) Cause evolution is kill or be killed You want to eat your words (Bet against me) Your Mrs. isn’t equipped to be having kids You want your feelings hurt (Bet against me) Have her listen to what I’m spitting You want your ego bruised (Bet against me) It’s like sniffing fertility pills If you like to lose (Bet against me) This illegitimate village idiot bridging original If you love regret (Bet against me) shit with digital You want to die in debt (Bet against me) Catching a carrier pigeon, sticking a chip in his If you want to shed tears (Bet against me) wing and hitching a ride You want to lose ten years (Bet against me) But there’s a glitch in the system inside If you got too much wealth (Bet against me) Got this ambition, I’m keeping the freshest fish If you fuckin hate yourself (Bet against me) in my kitchen I catch em quick when get em to bite (right) This kind of killing could fill a pelican bill And my delicatessen will keep my recipe tight (right) You kinda Gollumy, go ahead try to follow me But if you’re solid we build a colony, bruh Calling Me Maybe, they popping molly these babies are sniffling like they’re chuggin some quality phó WHOA WHOA WHOA Music by Miles Douglas & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

D min C/E F C Bb G m7 INTRO

Vocals & b 4 . ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ .

4 & b 4 . ‰ ‰ ‰ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ ‰ œ ‰ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Piano œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ...... œ. œ. œ œ œ œ œ. ˙ ? b 4 . w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ . w ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ ˙ CHORUS

D min C/E F C Bb G m7

Vox. b j Ó œ œ j ∑ & œ. œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ Whoa whoa whoa What do you take us for?

D min C/E F C Bb G m7

Vox. j j & b œ. œ œ Ó œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ ∑ Whoa whoa whoaœ What do you take us for?

VERSES D min C/E F C Bb G m7

8x then to Chorus Vox. b . . & . [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

Chorus Verse 2 Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for? I’ll jump the freeway median, I’m savage (x2) Cause my mode is that I’m meaner than the average Verse 1 Like my teacher taught me when I heard the I’m a phenomenon, and I gotta bring pain in crowd applaud the Octagon I thought I was an atheist until I realized I’m a When I wanna spit game at a soccermom God I get it quicker than the left lane on the Auto- It could hurt a bit when I murder shit bahn In a moment I’ll be tying off a tourniquet Fast—like Ramadan—and I battle young Pad- When I burn em and I hit em in the sternum awans all the damn day I don’t even gotta enter but I’m gonna win the I’m getting nekked and I’m hopping on a tournament wrecking ball That’s what I’m all about So hot I get that mothafucka a la flambé Do what I gotta do and never gonna pout I go to Miley’s house And I hope that it woulda been the end of it I see that Miley’s home and i’m out I play Miley’s ribcage with my dick like it’s a But they never tend to give me the benefit of xyliephone the doubt Yes, that was highly fucked up but my skills are Ever since I was a little I kid I know that I’ve highly honed been looking for the hot hot spotlight And if I was highly hyphy I might be more wide- And if you really wonder what I think about ly known the competition, they were not not not tight Se la vie, better pay my fee I been reading my scripture They kick it in Seattle in a Patagonia jacket Every photobomber wanna be in my picture They get it in the Bay in a plain white tee And ya betta bet i’m living every single day Hey mami! You a PYT! like it’s the mothafuckin Catalina Wine Mixer Wanna see me speak? Then I go (go) go (go) Bada bing bada boom go (go) When I walk in I’m the king of the room Every time I get a beat you know I gotta beat it And I get it locked in like a king in a tomb up When I spit a toxin and they cough on the I bend it then I break it and I chop it then I eat fumes it up Cause I’m back in the nick of time and attack- And PETA would never approve of the way I ing a fickle mind been treating the music I’m a jackal I’ll rip his hide I’ma tackle him, I bleed it, I bruise it pick a fight I kick it to the curb and then and I’m sipping on I be Dracula set to bite in the black of the bit- my bourbon ter night and I’m out. Poof. I be freaking it, doing it, keeping it moving I’m picking apart the muscle when I’m thinking about the hustle but I’m nice INK DON'T BLEED Music by Jairus Mosey ft. Anderson .Paak & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

F#min7 D 7 C#7 F#min7

VERSE 1 & 2 4x Vocals # # # 4 . . & 4 [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

D 7 C#7 F#min7

CHORUS

Vox. # # r r r & # ‰ ≈ œ nœ œ œ œ œ ‰ ≈ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ ‰ ≈ œ I can't change the past but A man's got - ta man up It's

# # œ œ nœ œ nœ #œ & # œ œ Œ œ œ Œ nœ œ Œ œ nœ ≈ #œ Œ Pno. œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ ? ### œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ Œ nœ ‰ Œ Œ J J J œ nœ ≈ œ

D 7 C#7 F#min7

Vox. # # œ œ œ j & # nœ œ #œ œ ‰ Œ ‰ œ ‰ ≈ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ hard to be - lieveJ Psh SomeR -times I get the best of me Now I'm

# # œ nœ # œ œ Œ œ œ ‰ œ nœ ≈ ‰ ≈ #œ Œ & œ œ œ œ œ R œ nœ œ Pno. œ œ œ œ # nœ œ œ œ œ ? ## œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ Œ nœ ‰ Œ Œ J J J œ nœ ≈ œ

D 7 C#7 F#min7

Vox. ### nœ œ œ œ & œ #œ œ œ Ó ‰ ≈ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ do - ing what I can but I'm a man not a damn chump I can

### œ œ œ nœ œ nœ #œ & œ œ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ œ nœ ≈ œ Œ Pno. œ œ nœ œ # nœ œ œ œ œ ? ## œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ Œ nœ ‰ Œ Œ J J J œ nœ ≈ œ

Verse 1 Verse 2 Some got hits about the racks that they earn We dismiss our heroes’ skeletons no matter how grim Say there’s Benjamins and Jacksons in their pocket to My fans saying “I’d be honored to be injured by him” burn Well fam, this branch is thin, but I’ll go out on a limb But when they shoot the video producers pass around a to say she didn’t love her ulna poking out of her skin bucket full of rented jewelry for them to rock and return being pumped full of morphine and tied to machines I know a straightedge rapper who acts like a sheepherd- They cut off my jeans, I heard her in the ambulance er scream A vegan on the mic who’s screaming that meat’s murder She’s in school to do tattoos and mighta had nerve But when everybody’s sleepin, he be creepin damage slugging back the whiskey, hating himself and sneakin a So I coulda cost a girl a chance at her dream cheeseburger Meanwhile he pops painkillers, until the dude is numb There’s a pop idol at the top of the charts Knew I was a stupidass, just not that I’m a ruthless one and when her record’s being cut, she’s on the beach in Youth is easily influenced so should you be rooting for St. Barts me while a session singer who didn’t have the face to make if I touch a thousand lives but on the way I ruin some? it The rule of thumb is all publicity’s your advantage signs a nondisclosure agreement and belts out her parts but human lives are not collateral damage It’s hard, cause I got bars that are big-uppin Woody bandage the wound and then vanish, blank as the new- Allen est of canvases But maybe he’s a predator who’s digging in his talons When they zoom in the cameras give em the truth There’s a balance, and often I don’t know how to feel In a fake and tainted world, seek the real Verse 3 Megachurch leaders sleeping with male hookers Chorus Mayors hitting crackpipes with their cookers Now, I can’t change the past but a man’s gotta man up Each week a crooked politician gets caught It’s hard to believe. Sometimes I get the best of me We’re not shocked when they’re cheaters Now, I’m doing what I can but I’m a man, not a damn These days we’re shocked when they’re not chump Are they the person you thought? If they’re perfect and I can say it if you need, but I’d rather let the ink bleed hot often we blame the victim, scoffing, “they deserved what they got” Actors sweep it under the rug and resume with the plot but they’re amateurs and we can see the boom in the shot If perception is reality then this could be a shocker: I’ve done my share of fucked up things that didn’t get on Gawker Lots of tiny indiscretions way beyond the public eye that if you saw would out probably out me as a compli- cated guy Mike says you gotta separate the person from the art But if the art’s about that person you can’t pull em apart So you better watch the choices that you makin now because they aren’t something that matter, they’re the only thing that does

Outro (x4) Everything they say conflicts with everything I do But I must admit I did it so I guess it might be true RIGHT NOW Music by Pat Dimitri ft. Lisa Vitale & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO

4 œ œ w ˙ œ œ œ œ j & 4 Ó œ œ J œ ˙ Piano

? 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

VERSE C F (add9) G A m11

1, 2, 3. 4.

Vox. & . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . Ó Œ ‰ j [RAP] œ Re -

PRE-CHORUS C F (add9) G A m11 % Vox. & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Ó Ó ‰ œ mem - ber - ing the days œ that felt so long I bet youœ miss œ meœ Weœ spent theœ

C F (add9) G A m11

Vox. & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ ∑ whole day drea - ming our minds made up We're mak - ing his - tory

CHORUS C F add9 G A m11 C F G A min ( ) 1. to Verse 2. to Bridge 3. Fine Vox. Œ j Ó Œ j Ó Œ j Ó Œ Œ . & œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Right now is right now Too loud to die downœ Right now is right now No o - ther time now œ œ

BRIDGE C F (add9) G A m11

Vox. & . ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ≈ Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ≈ Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ≈ Œ Push-ing off of the ground to - night I be up in the clouds to - night Look-ing o - ver my town to - night

D.S. al Fine

1. 2. Vox. ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ≈ Œ . ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ≈ ‰ j & œ œ . œ œ œ In the sha - dow we found the light In the sha - dow we found the light Re (continue Bridge under Pre-Chorus)

Verse 1 Verse 2 It’s ‘86 when my mama has me If time is money a second’s a penny a minute’s 30 seconds later when the doctor slaps me buck a couple years are a milly I’m getting 15 years til I get my permit really really filthy And then 4 more til we’re in the backseat Bitch, get me a bathtub! Of a taxi, crazy youngfolk I’m filthy rich, watching my pennies stack up and then sun came up but none woke I shower in a typhoon It’s 4:20 when I make that dumb joke If time is dimes then I’m a tycoon I was saying something like blah blah blunt I’ll glue em together and the climb to the moon smoke Climb to the moon! Climb to the moon! And then it’s later in the afternoon We on today, Today, Matt Lauer in my backyard when we write this tune Every 24 we going like Jack Bauer 2 days later when I pen the verses Hear the bell ringing I’m thinking it’s that hour Probably 8 months til you first heard it Turning on my light and I set it to max power So punch the clock, adjust your tie Let’s keep it going and going, I’m talking mo- Spike the punch and touch the sky ment to moment we live the high and the low Life is hard and then you die And then when we’re broken like cracking So let’s all go hard tonight open a coconut we pull ourselves together again and we gotta go Chorus Remembering the days that felt so long Bridge (x4) I bet you miss me Pushing offa the ground tonight We spent the whole day dreaming, our minds I be up in the clouds tonight made up Looking over my town tonight We’re making history In the shadow we found the light Right now is right now Too loud to die down Right now is right now No other time now MY FIRST STALKER Music by Max Miller-Loran, Brandon Paak Anderson, & Jose Rios Lyrics by George Watsky

D A/C# B F#/A# D A/C# B F#/A# VERSE

Vocals ## 4 & 4 [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

D A/C# B F#/A# G#min F#/A# B min F#min 4fr. To Coda Vox. # & # ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

CHORUS 1 G F# B min G F# B min G

Vox. # # Œ ‰ j ‰ j ‰ ‰ & j nœ œ œ œ œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ œ jnœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ You'reœ cree-ping out my neigh - bors When they grab the pa - per Youœ pro- 'bly think I'm in - side Like some kind of sa - vior Sol-ving world

F# B min E7 G 7

D.C. al Coda Vox. ## & j ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ j ‰ Ó . hungœ - erœ Wor -king on Suœ - doœ - kuœ And ﬁl - ling in theœ numœ - bersœ Po - lish -ing myœ haœ - loœ Ooh I bet youœ wonœ - derœ

CHORUS 2 G F# B min G F# B min G ﬁ Vox. ## Ó & œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ œ Frank-ly I am ﬂat - teredœ We all want to mat - terœ Doœ you see when you pass byœ That we let the grass die?œ I'm late with the

F# B min G F# B min G

Vox. ## & j ‰ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ rentœ checkœ We park on theœ lawnœ likeœ we'reœ œa bunchœ ofœ fuckœ - ingœ redœ - necksœ I'm just watch-ingœ Netœ - ﬂixœ Jerk-ing off toœ

F# B min G F# B min E7

Vox. ## j & j ‰ œ œ œ j œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ porœ - noœ I have a subœ - scripœ - tionœ And I got a susœ - piœ - cionœ You think my life isœ diffœ - 'rentœ I get your conœ - fuœ - sionœ Butœ you got some deœ -

G 7 Bb7 GMaj9/A 3fr.

Vox. # ˙ & # j ‰ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ œ œ œ j‰ luœ - sionsœ Yeah I'm fuck -ingœ aweœ - someœ But I got - taœ outœ youœ You pro - 'bly think I'mœ inœ thereœ writ - ing songs œa - boutœ youœ Ah!

She freaked when she saw me Frankly I am flattered calmly eating my tamale We all want to matter She followed me home from the diner Do you see you pass by Now all day she be on me that we let the grass die? on the other side of the street I’m late with the rent check You can see her through the blinds if you peek We park on the lawn With a book propped up on her knees and the like we’re a bunch of fuckin rednecks blue hair I’m just watching Netflix What do you care when I’m home what I do jerking off to porno there? (I have a subscription!) and I got a suspicion You’re creeping out my neighbors you think my life is different when they grab the paper I get your confusion You probably think I’m inside but you got some delusions like some kind of savior Yeah I’m fucking awesome Solving world hunger but I gotta out you working on Sudoku you probably think I’m in there and filling in the numbers writing songs about you (ooooh!) Polishing my halo Ooh I bet you wonder

Life can be bogus We all wanna be noticed But we’re the ones in the background fuzzy when the ones in the front are in focus And it’s pretty difficult in general when you really think a person is incredible And I get it why you’re setting em up on a pillar But the bigger the tumble the bigger the pedes- tal THE ONE Music by Kush Mody Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO

Vocals b 4 & b 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ b 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & b 4 œ œ œ œ œ Piano 4 ? bb 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

B G min E E /F VERSE b b b 3fr.

4x Vox. bb . . & ’[RAP] ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

b & b . ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ . Pno. j j j ? b . œ œ œ j œ œ . b . œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ œ ‰ ‰ Œ œ œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ withœ octave pedal, 8vb œ œ œ Gtr. . 3 5 3 1 3 . 1 3 5 1 3 5 . 6 3 .

B G min E E /F CHORUS b b b 3fr. to Verse

Vox. bb . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ I don't be - lieve in the One two three four two two three four three two three four four two three four

œ œ b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & b . œ œ œ œ œ . Pno. j j œ œ j j ? b . œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ œ ‰ ‰ œ Œ œ œ . b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Gtr. 0 . 0 3 3 0 1 3 . 1 3 1 1 3 . 3 .

Verse 1 Verse 2 Everywhere I look it seems like everybody’s Wonderland is where I’ll find an Alice who is pairing off radical I’m staring at the pairs like they were tits on But I’m drunk on Facebook now and diving Lara Croft down that rabbit hole Even all the dogs I see are clicking so terrific Checkin on my ex and soon I’m creepin on her picking out their favorite puppy’s ass to sniff lover and stickin with it And when the picture buffers I see her new All the faker single ladies twerkin to Beyoncé boyfriend’s buffer than me Every single one of em is somebody’s fiancée Got those upper pecs his fuckin V-neck You never spilled your guts. You wanted your couldn’t cover say My dick pretty lonely but my nuts still got each Wait a couple years and try again when other they’re divorcees I suffer, suffer from a habit, yes I’m an addict All the gentlemen are trynna get the pussy, But someone else is out there, it’s just simple wanna make that pelvis scream mathematics But when I hit it and I quit it then it never really There’s over 7 billion mothafuckas on the plan- helps my self-esteem et and 4 billion of us are of legal age We want some tonsil hockey, but we got hecka That’s 2 billion ladies, 4 billion tittays, and I cocky bet a couple of em aren’t engaged Overfished the ocean, so we’re running low on And I get it you’ve been looking for the one tekka maki but they been running trynna hide like Kony sushi douchey dudes are saying ‘do me’ but And you’re gonna find em if you’re getting we’re doomed back into the saddle, baby ride that pony We run away from keepers and go creepin on And if you never get over that early lover then the goons it sucks for you Most men and women full of crap, need a lax- Gotta admit that it’s difficult to be watching ative her with him but everybody want a love that’s Want the ass when I’m waxin it, Uncle Sam true how I’m taxin it I’m waiting, batin’ patiently, yo I’m a catch Do a backflip and try to land in it, then aban- I’m losing my head, playing musical beds, and don it, pretty soon we’re back to looking for “the one” that match

Chorus 1, 2, 3, 4, 2, 2, 3, 4, 3, 2, 3, 4, 4, 2, 3, 4 I don’t believe in “the one” 2, 3, 4, 2, 2, 3, 4, 3, 4, 2, 4, 4, 2, 3, 4 There’s no such thing as “the one” BOOMERANG Music by Miles Douglas & Aaron Carmack ft. Arianna DeBoo Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO ˙ ˙ # ## ˙ ˙ & # 4 . ∑ ∑ . Piano # ## 4 & # 4 . w w w w . ww nww ww ww

C min7 B min7 E7 A Maj7 G 7 VERSE # # 4fr. 4fr. 4x Vox. # # # # . . & ’[RAP] ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

CHORUS C#min7 B min7 E7 4fr.

Vox. #### & ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ What I told you may - beœ half was trueœ I know nei - ther of usœ have a clueœ

A Maj7 D#min7/G# G#7sus4 C#min7 4fr. 4fr.

Vox. #### r & ‰ ≈ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ I'm al - ways com - ing back to you your boo your œboo œ your boo - mer - œang œ I know neither of us have the key

B min7 E7 A Maj7 D#min7/G# G#7sus4 4fr. to Verse

Vox. # ## # ‰ Œ ‰ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. But I'm tel - ling you you have to see How you're al - ways co - ming back to me my boo my booœ œ my boo - mer - ang

Verse 1 Verse 2 I hear a little patience what a man need You press my buttons like I were a Nintendo but bottling the feelings’ll makes a man bleed Me and her up in a permanent limbo The words leave my mouth in a stampede It’s like it’s nothing when we’re burnin the indo Watch em galloping, breaking records for land The streetlights like a blur in the window speed I got no cause to feel I was betrayed My heart pumps and my lips tend to obey It’s just a symptom of the of the game we You’re just so Bay, I hope you don’t say “no played way” We pull the hearts out of each others’ chests, now that I came back around to okay pull the pins out of the hearts And if you let me I will love you till we go grey and toss em back and forth like they’re gre- So be my do-ray-me-fa-so-la-ti-do nades We’ll hit El Faralito, and get a bomb burrito Hot potato, hot potato, what did you do? I try to kill my ego when your subject appears Blow my fuckin arm off and then kiss the boo- But I still think of you when I had a couple of boo beers Hit me with a shovel, and then say “I dig you” I’ll see you soon I got no use for a bucket of And be colder than an igloo tears When you want me I don’t want you, when I It seemed unlucky how we’d orbit each other want you, you don’t want me for years When I sing a tune and you sing it too then it’s We got our timing right and then I collided with “womp womp” in the wrong key you You always let me go and do my thang The wait is worth it in the moment we finally do But I’m always coming back again—boomerang Chorus What I told you maybe half was true I know neither of us have a clue I’m always coming back to you Your boo, your boo, your boomerang I know neither of us have the key But I’m telling you, you have to see How you’re always coming back to me My boo, my boo, my boomerang LET'S GET HIGH AND WATCH PLANET EARTH Music by Brandon Paak Anderson & Kelsey Miguel Gonzalez Lyrics by George Watsky

Bb Ab7 Bb Ab7 CHORUS 4fr. 4fr.

Vocals b b 4 Œ œ bœ j ‰ Ó ∑ Œ œ bœ & 4 œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ Why don't we get high and watch Pla-net Earth? Why don't we get high and watch

Bb Ab7 EbMaj7/G Ebmin/Gb 4fr.

Vox. bb j ‰ Ó ∑ Œ œ œ œ œ œ j ‰ Ó j ‰ Ó & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Pla - net Earth? Why don't we get high and watch Pla - net Earth? Plaœ - netœ Earth

Bb/F Ab G m7 Ab Bb/F 4fr. 4fr. 1. To Coda 2. Fine Vox. b & b j ‰ Ó j ‰ Ó j ‰ Ó j ‰ Ó j ‰ Ó ∑ Plaœ -netœ Earthœ Watchœ œit spinœ Watchœ œit spinœ Youœ andœ meœ Plaœ - netœ Earthœ

VERSE Bb Ab7 Bb Ab7 Bb 4fr. 4fr.

Vox. bb & [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

Ab7 EbMaj7/G Ebmin/Gb Bb/F Ab 4fr. 4fr.

Vox. b & b ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

G m7 Ab Bb/F Bb Ab7 Bb 4fr. 4fr. D.C. al Coda Vox. b & b ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

KEYS SOLO Bb Ab7 Bb Ab7 4fr. 4fr. ﬁ Pno. b j j & b Œ ‰ j j j j j j j j œ j œ œ j œ œ j j j œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ J œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Bb Ab7 EbMaj7/G Ebmin/Gb Bb/F 4fr. œ œ bœ Pno. b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ J bœ œ œ œ j j & b œ œ œ œ ˙ œ ‰ J J œ bœ J J œ J œ œ œ J œ œ œ œ œ J J . J . Ab G m7 Ab Bb/F 4fr. 4fr.

5 D.C. al Fine bœ œ Pno. b œ œ œbœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ w & b bœnœbœ œbœ j bœ bœ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ j bœbœ œ œ œ œ w œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 3 J œ œ œ œ œ œ bœ bœ œ œ bœ bœ œ

Chorus Why don’t we get high and watch Planet Earth? (x3) Planet Earth, Planet Earth Watch it spin, watch it spin You and me, planet earth

Verse And yes, yes, let’s let’s let’s get some takeout Press our hearts together like when kids make Barbies make out Let’s make out, no toothpaste I only want to know how you taste We don’t need to tie no shoelace And we don’t need to pack no suitcase To, to find a new place. Let our moment linger We’ll weave our hands together and then kiss this braid of fingers Until the whisper, whisper of time’s undying rivers Come decorate our skin with crow’s feet, spider-veins and fissures But we won’t cry, we won’t cry, we’ll step into that cyclone Together when we’re blinded and our minds erode like limestone And all we can remember’s how we make each other feel, then…

Paul Watsky …Ah, the hippies, ah, were sort of wide-eyed with floppy pants and things like that. I thought there were some good things about what they were doing—a lot of good things, especially the sex… HAND OVER HAND Music by Jose Rios ft. Anderson .Paak & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

A min D E min C G/B A min D E min INTRO

Vocals # & 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

Guitar # 4 œ & 4 ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ œ œ œ œ

Guitar T 7 A 9 7 5 B ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ 7

A min D E min C G/B A min D E min

VERSE 4x

Vox. # . . & ’[RAP] ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

Gtr. # . œ . & . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ œ œ œ œ œ .

Gtr. 7 . 9 7 5 . . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ 7 .

PRE-CHORUS B min A min F E/G#

Vox. # ‰ Œ Ó ≈ ≈ Œ Ó & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Neœ - verœ needœ -edœ œa hand til you need-ed œa hand Youœ nevœ - erœ knowœ howœ toœ walk un - til you un - derœ - standœ œ Gtr. # & Œ |. Œ |. Œ |. Œ |.

B min A min F E/G#

Vox. # & ‰ Œ Ó ≈ j ‰ Œ ≈ Ó œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ œ œ œ œ Couldœ -œa beenœ anœ -œy - tthing that you need-ed toœ be Howœ manœ -œy moreœ doœ youœ want? Howœ maœ - nyœ moreœ doœ you need? Gtr. # & Œ |. Œ |. Œ |. Œ |.

Verse 1 Verse 2 (Anderson .Paak) It’s the American dream That’s me with the long arm But if you pull on the thread, it’s gonna tear at Screaming at the top dog, spilling my blood on the seam the cement See what I mean? We don’t tend to scream We willing to roll now, sick of getting mowed Baby, we just stare at the screen down Like it’s a preacherman up at the pulpit Fuck if I dope now, it’d kill me Some with the scars end up holding the bull- Cause I’d rather be known for the dealing whip Than known to be hooked on the feeling Another angry kid unloading a full clip How many more gotta go now? How many And I could tie a pretty bow on this bullshit more gotta go down? But let’s not lie for another second I’ll stand in the rain witcha, just to get a little We see the trouble, we’re rubberneckin bit of glimpse of the plain picture No doublecheckin, if it’s an issue we have to People need a pinch just to get em to wake up grapple You’ll be in a ditch before I get you to wake The words are caught in my Adam’s apple up, say it bruh I make my body a happy chapel Whoever said it wasn’t fair, they was telling Cause every person’s a tabernacle the truth But there’s no feeling you gotta hide I’d be a liar if I said there was nothing to So let’s all pray to the God inside, say it now prove

Chorus Verse 3 Never needed a hand til you needed a hand They say we gotta know our role You never know how to walk until you under- Kiss the bottom of the totem pole stand Set goals, and then go for gold Coulda been anything that you needed to be But we hibernate and hide inside our gopher How many more do you want? How many do holes you need? I wanna smoke a bowl, a hand on my dick Still I wish I could break free while the other one is busy clicking the remote It’s that same old simple song I still believe control How many more do we need? I’m no Dalai Lama of the sofa but I hear I got- Before it’s hand over hand ta go to Love over everything where the sinners face the roasting coals You say that your heart ain’t got no holes, well bitch please Let’s all admit that we got souls like Swiss cheese But wishing isn’t gonna fill this abyss And no hand over hand over fisted riches is fixin what’s missin If I wanna kill this monotony I know the answer is a light that I got in me I got no university degree in philosophy But I know that every baby’s born with the lock and key TEARS TO DIAMONDS ft. Raquel Rodriguez Music by Pat Dimitri & Brandon Paak Anderson Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO # & 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Piano

? # 4 ‰ ‰ œ. œ œ ‰ œ. œ. œ œ ‰ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ.

A min7 G Maj7 C Maj B min7

# w & w w w w Pno. w w w

? # ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ.

CHORUS E min D C 6 B min 7fr. % Vox # j & . ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ Ó ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ Œ Ó 1. They press our tear drops in - to dia - monds They change our sor - rows in - to gold 2. They press our tear drops in - to dia - monds But they can't channge our hearts to stone # . w w & . w w w w Pno. w w ? # . ‰ ‰ œ. œ œ ‰ œ. œ. œ œ ‰ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ.

A min7 G Maj7 C Maj B min7 Chorus 1: no repeat Chorus 2: repeat and continue Chorus 3: repeat and end Vox # œ œ œ œ œ j . & ‰ œ œ œ œ œ Œ Ó ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ Œ Ó . They're gon - na turn our blood to ru - bies We just need some - one we can hold They're gon - na turnn our blood to ru - bies I know that we are not a - line # w . & w w w w . Pno. w w w

? # ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ . œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ. .

Chorus Verse 2 They press our teardrops into diamonds I know it’s sappy They change our sorrows into gold But I want my family to be happy They’re gonna turn our blood to rubies Without becoming flatter than a sheet of paper We just need someone we can hold An army of zombies shuffling through a vapor But I know folks who found something beautiful Verse 1 And they credit the pharmaceuticals Got an issue but it’s getting bigger and bigger For slaying the demons that they’re running in the beginning it was something minor from Got a rat up in my kitchen and we gotta get rid It might have saved their lives and I’m one of of it em so we’re bringing in a tiger But there’s a limit to the shit you can endure There’s something inside her You get a prescription and you’re thinking that Thought you were blissful it’s pure I heard you did it with a pink-handled pistol But baby maybe it’s a problem when you got But sadness, it tend to latch on a problem and it won’t let go like a pitbull and you get addicted to the cure Don’t even know if you left a note The spike ain’t not mystery Should we blame the Depakote? We’re any penny in a billion dollar industry Or vilify the Abilify? And there’s a mothafucka on living on the hill You were trying to find your vanilla sky pushing pills Then you unravel stacking bills off our misery Face down on rock bottom fucking chewing gravel Bridge (x2) Because a human’s so fragile. What can you Had a teaspoon that’s full of pain do? Got an ocean that’s full of sorrow

Chorus 2 They press our teardrops into diamonds They change our sorrows into gold They’re gonna turn our blood to rubies We just need someone we can hold They press our teardrops into diamonds But they can’t change our hearts to stone They’re gonna turn our blood to rubies I know that we are not alone GRASS IS GREENER Music by George Watsky Lyrics by George Watsky

E min G A min C E min G A min C INTRO

Vocals # & 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

CHORUS E min G A min C E min G A min C

% 3 3 Vox. # Œ Œ Œ Œ Œ Œ ‰ ‰ Œ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j Here Take my caœ - reerœ Give meœ yourœ healthœ Letœ me have the love youœ œshareœ