Lyrics:
baby let's KILL KILL KILL KILL!
Woah-oo-woah woah, Chubby Checker psycho!
Woah-oo-woah woah!
Woah-oo-woah woah, Chubby Checker psycho!
Woah-oo-woah
Ya boy Xeraph on the track
You already know, let's go
Lightskin, darkskin, enticingly delicious
Caramelly cocoa, whippy creamy thickalicous
Dat
Ya boy Xeraph on the track
You already know, let's go
Lightskin, darkskin, enticingly delicious
Caramelly cocoa, whippy creamy thickalicous
Dat chubby
down
Tear ya down (Oooooooh)
They gone gossip when ya not around
Fake smiles (Yea)
Show my hand and do the opposite
It's chess not checkers
(It's
And four's for the ambiance
Check it out 'cause this is how it go
I'm sick with the rhyme
I'm infected
Since '95 the BEP perfected
The way we get down
I'm lettin' it go, so bust it, I'm backin' on the uprides
We kickin' the rhymes and down the rock around With the divine, the beings, so let the hoes
(Aye Aye)
Official Mic checkers one, two, one, two
Official Mic checkers one, two, (Let's go)
Yo check it out
Been known to hold it down
The king who
corscious nigga never get framed
The beat I'm stepping on is all in my veins
Go by low key but I'm king in the game
Use my mind as a weapon
Leave my hands
word is redemption
For those who try to shit on my crown let's get down
Plastic ass rappers get smashed like crackers
First I shalack ya and hit ya
a view
And I came here tonight just to rock for you
So let's a rock y'all, and get down
Let's take a trip on a funky merry-go-round
You see, round
a psychopath (well, they aren't wrong)
But I never let go of the beliefs that remained
Always fulfilled rumors with a shot from the Ruger
The pen, not the gun,
With the roof back jeans, worth a few stacks Checkers on my wrist, oh baby, let's go I was raised with a work at, damn, clubs and goons That button
Healthy chubby nigga when I step out
Don't know how I'm standing smoking weed by the pound
It's super funny haters really looking like some clowns
Yeah yeah yeah....
I got 'em sayin
[Chorus] x2
Go chubby boy, make the block hot
Go chubby boy, make her pussy pop
[Verse 1]
I'm the reason why
on your hand mean we can twist like Chubby Checker
Blunt so fat you'll need a pyrotech' to get it lit
Yeah, this the way that West coast rock shit
I'm
with the cock when your lickin'
Me like Apollo your Creed my Mission
You go down for the count I countdown ignition
Blast off you're a rocket
Scoop-Man Scoop-Man Scoop
I've got a cute face, chubby waist (mm-hm)
Thick legs, in shape (let's go, come on)
Rump shakin', both ways (come on now)
Make
Scoop-Man Scoop-Man Scoop
I've got a cute face, chubby waist (mm-hm)
Thick legs, in shape (let's go, come on)
Rump shakin', both ways (come on now)
Make
Ha, Chubby Checker, ha, hey fellow
Ha, Rufus Thomas and head Tony
I remember when you all had
The whole world dancin'
Now come on and do this little
Good times bad times
Bad times good times
We were twisting Chubby Checker style
In a roaring sixties summer night
We walked the moon and we
Good times bad times
Bad times good times
We were twisting Chubby Checker style
In a roaring sixties summer night
We walked the moon and we
wit' the
Cheese and I'mma let
(omelet) the tre (tray) go
I push the button down on the toaster
He brain pop out like an Eggo
I ain't ya Migo nigga
I'll
Good times bad times
Bad times good times
We were twisting Chubby Checker style
In a roaring sixties summer night
We walked the moon and we
Chubby Checker
In LA I hit the chronic, I'm super like the Sonics
I jab you with the left and swing a hook without the phonics
Okey dokey, hocus
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