Lyrics:
Willis
What you talking about Willis
What ya talking about Willis
Say your name ring bells
Say your face card good
You ain't come up in the streets
They
the drive-by
Girl goin down but the feelin got me sky high
I do what I want
Blowing money fast
Nothin like niggas
Call me chuck bass
Call me call me Chuck Bass
him good
Got me sleeping on his wood
He have me rep his hood though bow
How much wood
Could a wood chuck chuck
If a wood chuck
Could chuck wood hoe
'cept get catched by dis' lil' stinker over heahhh!
'membuh, we's on broadway! muthafucker be buyin' dem tickets wants a lil' heart, a lil' soul...'n
wolf in these woods
Drapes'd in designer goods
Caught the eye of bad b's, feeling me
Bae I'm good
I just Chuck Norris kick it
Then a Nigga chuck wood
off, I'ma swag it up
Good girl gone bad, boy, grab my Bud'
Bass loud, hands up
I don't really give a fuck
They say I ain't old enough but
I be young
co-log- nuh directly into de duo-deenum of de unsuspecting victim! now he gone see if he immune to it by e
A dab hisseff!
(singing)
Flies all green an'
and have his son now, he might be the one now,
I count it funny myself,
I'll let my daddy Chuck Brown give you the run down.
I was driving in my car one
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
choking me and all I got is from the stress
Like Av you gettin pretty reckless
Development arrested
But shit i'm tried n tested
Ain't mean to be rude about
arm-wrestled
I'd see that you won
Iee my baby, ride easy, ride high in the saddle all day
If your loving is good
And your cooking ain't greasy
We'll chuck
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
intellectional expressium on yo' beloved's ignint face, de bitch gwine be contemplatin' a career of her own! see dat?
Look like she got her one good eye
make it look good
Look good
Bitch I make it look
Aye
Hella cocky when I slide
Go against the crew
And it might be a homicide
My niggas they gone ride
You
route, and "Tales From the Crypt"
I whip on that ass like base ba-bay
The Sense is good-goobley-goo, ask Gravy
Or LaMont, or Rollo, down at the,
still young...'cause, 'fo y'all knows it, he be reachin' adulthood and marry some bitch name rhonda ...'n, by dat time, he gwine become what dey call
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
not clear of the aggression by Bruce Willis‘ dog at two italian musicians that happened to be at the villa, at actor married to Demi
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier)
Steve vai (guitar)
Ray white (guitar, vocals)
Tommy mars (keyboards)
Chuck wild (piano)
Arthur barrow (bass)
Scott
cookin' ain't greasy
Hitch up the chuck wagon
And we'll ride away
If I ran the country
Yeah, I'd be your first lady
And fix up the white house
While
arm-wrestled
I'd say that you won
My baby, ride easy
Ride high in the saddle all day
If your lovin' is good
And your cookin' ain't greasy
Hitch up the chuck
melting (Melting)
Not from Oz, lil bitch, from L.B. (L.B)
I look good in the sun take a selfie (Selfie)
I'm so good everyone wanna help me (Help me)
I'm
When you balling they gone put you on the front page
I Take my time at the line like I’m Chuck Hayes
Im good at rapping but at hooping I’m immaculate
Or twenty-twos, now tell me, who the honey for you? Chuck
I wanna be your chick
I wanna be down for you
Do you trust me? (Yeah)
Love me? (Yeah)
You puttin'
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