Where the Party At chords by 
E‐40 
N/A
Key: E minor•
Verse 1
Em
G
Am
Pushed in the game
C
Am
Em
at a young age
G
Am
C
Feel me touch me as I turn the page
G
Em
A little past ten, roughly about
Am
eleven years old dropped
C
in the good loca tion
G
Am
My scratch is smellin
Em
sour and it's stinkin
G
got a nigga seriously think in
Am
C
"How can I kill this odor,
Em
and purchase me a Lincoln?"
Minimum wage flippin
patties - nope
G
I'd rather fuck around with Coca-
Am
C
G
Cola, yola
Am
Ice cream, candy, granola, huh
Em
G
Am
C
Slave for men - that's what they told me
and I'll break you
G
Em
off somethin suitable
G
Brought you a key of
Am
crack quicker than ?
Recoupable
C
Future black and beautiful
G
Am
My part ners used to be
Em
Am
plucked an d ugly
C
Hangin around them old squeegee boys
G
Em
Man them the motherfuck ers
Am
that have love for me
They straight cut for me
C
Em
G
Deal me, touch me, L- O- V- E
Am
Em
Am
E- to- the- F- to- the- R- T- Y
I spits the shit from the T- O- P
Em
It's me, the E, droppin
it nuclear all the time
Am
Mother fucker comin from
the motherfuckin.. mud
C
Am
Fuck you niggaz, you
Em
Am
think I sell my soul
C
Am
But I'm way too cold, motherfucker!
Verse 2
Em
Am
Sittin in my livin room
C
Thinkin of, a master plan
Am
D
Em
Tryin to find a way out
Then I snatch the scratch, and laugh
C
Em
So I painted me a picture
Am
Em
of a life, to make a dream
G
Can you feel me now
Am
C
Em
Ballin outta control, ballin outta control
Verse 3
Em
Fresh off the showroom flo', bought
me a ninety- fo'
Am
C
Now I'm havin long money,
Em
Am
Em
Am
like Ross Perot, so take
C
Em
Am
Em
notes from a big ol'
G
? pimp, pretty much es tablished
C
Em
Livin out of hand lavish
Am
C
Throwin parties ?
Em
Am
Em
with big time folks mak in
Am
big time cabbage
C
Am
Become a sav age, get swoll by ones
Em
Twenty a drum's established
G
Am
Six figure digit s, just like I tell you like
Em
I got the whole city sewed up in stitches
Am
Your product'll win if
C
Em
you gots top grade
Keep, your law- yers and your
bail bondsmen paid
Am
G
The word on the street's is that I
Em
done came up too fast
G
Motherfuckers want a piece
Am
of my soul
C
Am
Playa haters wanna cut my grass
Em
You don't wanna bring your bitch
G
Am
to what type of ? out of con trol
C
G
Em
sit tin on tickets
Am
Mil lion dollar spots,
C
technology chops
Em
and a motherfucker proud
fool- assed ridiculous
Am
C
Am
G
Am
Em
Straight fuckin em up
Am
like that,
C
G
Em
throw me my strap man
Am
C
Feel me
Am
Em
Reverend would you put
Am
some blessin oil on my head
C
and hear me
G
Em
G
Am
I never sell my soul cause I'm
C
way too cold
G
Em
Motherfucker! Ballin outta control
Am
This ol' game, kids they run
Verse 4
Em
Never get a second chance
so take me to this world
Am
Now there's always time, to getcha
Em
I guess by now you get the picture
Am
Em
of what I'm tryin to say
I'm ballin outta control
Am
"Niggaz trippin
Verse 5
C
Em
Am
off me cause I was
Em
G
Am
C
a young motherfucker ballin"
Am
Em
"Every other fuckin day I'm tellin my
sahies how to quit"
G
Am
"Niggaz trippin off me cause
C
I was a young mother fucker ballin"
Em
"We can get it on, we can
get it on"
Am
"Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a
C
young motherfucker ballin"
"Forty- Water,
Em
straight lettin em know"
"Even though my pocket's fat
Am
and my belly's bigger ..
C
Am
gots to come Sic- Sic- Sic- Wid- It"
Verse 6
Em
Throw, the hoe
G
C
Y'know in a big ass gum bo pot
Full stir
Em
Am
Em
Let it settle to make it lock
G
Horse races, trips to Vegas,
Am
frequent flier
"Whassup you timah, when
Em
your ass gonna retire?"
I ain't knowin
Am
Keep tellin myself that I'ma call it quits
Em
But I got myself
Too much motherfuckin cabbage
G
Am
out there run nin in the streets
C
Lookin up out the way
Am
Em
for the one- time
Am
C
Em
Po- Po Penelope seriously
G
concentratin
Am
Em
Noided as I watch the back
Am
C
for all of my chemistry
G
Em
cause fools be playa hatin
Am
C
G
Lucrative spot s and blows,
Em
investments bonds and stocks
Esquired land and crops,
Am
techno chops and glocks
C
Cause niggaz be tryin to make movies
Em
Am
when they get all in front of
Em
these bootch ass hoochies
Am
I be like poppin the cap like
C
a hungry mother
Em
Am
Em
I ain't even gon' lie I'm to'
Am
Twoasted, looped, to' back,
souped
C
Plastered, puked, on the get
Em
back fully recouped
Fuck these niggaz they think I'll
sell my soul
Am
C
But I'm way too cold, motherfuck er!
Am
Sittin in my livin
Verse 7
Em
room
Thinkin of, a master plan
C
Am
Tryin to find a way out
Em
Am
Then I snatch the scratch, and laugh
C
Em
So I painted me a picture
of a life, to make a dream
Am
Can you feel me now
C
Em
Ballin outta control, ballin outta control
Am
Yeah yeah, I'm ballin outta
Verse 8
Em
control
Am
C
Out of motherfuckin control
Em
I'm ballin outta control
Am
Em
Cause I'm way too cold
Yayayy, I'm ballin outta control
C
MotherFUCKER! Ah yeah
Am
Feel me main
I feel you
Can you feel me main
Em
Yeah, I feel you main
Am
Vitti can you feel me?
C
Em
I feel yah!
Motherfucker can you feel
me?
Yeahahayahahah!
Am
Feel me main
I feel you main
C
Em
Feel me boy?
Am
Em
I'm ballin outta control, yeahahahhh
C
Every fuck in time
Em
All day, motherfucker
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsEm G Am C D
Em
G
Am
C
D
Capo: No capo
Transpose: 0
0
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