Spazz

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Chase

The band Chase was created in 1970 by Bill Chase, Ted Piercefield, Alan Ware, and Jerry Van Blair, all veteran jazz trumpeters who were also adept at vocals and arranging. They were backed up by a rhythm section consisting of Phil Porter on keyboards, Angel South (b. Lucian Gondron) on guitar, Dennis Johnson on bass, and Jay Burrid (b. Jay Mitthauer) on percussion. Rounding out the group was Terry Richards, who was featured as lead vocalist on the first album. In April 1971, the band released their debut album, Chase, which contains Chase's best-known song, "Get It On", released as a single that spent 13 weeks on the charts beginning in May 1971. The song features what Jim Szantor of Downbeat magazine called "the hallmark of the Chase brass—complex cascading … more »

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Too much, knock him out, sleep
I see that strip that I need
That boy, he dripped in white sheet
I don't need blood on red velvet seat I'm big dog, knock my shit down
That bitch f*ck wit my sound
Lil' Che gon' chase shit down
Lil' Che gon' chase shit down
I need brain cap, no gown
My gang gon' count another thousand
I kick shit, call me, Ronda Rousey Going a hundred thousand miles in an Audi
Yo, bitch, she racked another the body
Heaven feel like sex and Molly
To move my money, need a dolly
Yo, brother, he gon' shit, prolly
Miami, hold high heat
Miami, hold high heat
Fire, knock you out your seat
Fire, knock you out your seat
Hold on, somebody callin' me
Think them Benjis talkin' to me
I see that whip and it look all black, these niggas that talk don't know where they at
I see green foot on the gas
Yeah, Lil' Che dropped another bag
I see demon time, I spazz
See that boy front, he glass
Nigga, Don know he spazz
He got caught Glock and a mag Need my Ben Franks in the bag
Mexican hoe treat me like dad
Too much, knock him out, sleep
I see that strip that I need
That boy, he dripped in white sheet
I don't need blood on red velvet seat I'm big dog, knock my shit down
That bitch f*ck wit my sound
Lil' Che gon' chase shit down
Lil' Che gon' chase shit down
I hear no words they saying know how they world go down
The closet demons be yo friends you know how they shit go down
My drip so serious I swear to God that I'll never drown
I'm fast and furious the way I go over a hundred miles
That nigga delirious can't put red up off me
He wanna talk on the net he chopped meat
Ho trippin', she can't block me
Lock down shit, can't cross me
Memphis Grizzly, I'm ballin'
Yeah, this drip, he ain't affording
Yeah, my bro, he tote a 40

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