Lyrics:
It is now 6:30 in the a.m
This is Baba Oje speaking directly to you
Right down to earth in a language
One can easily understand
We got a list
don't fucking know
Suicidal in the mind
I'm a different kai
Finna breed with the chubbies
Hit it from behind
Or hit these books I'm abusive
Better call
God given
This is hard livin', mixed with Cristal sippin'
It's the most consistent, Hov
Give you the most hits you can fit inside a whole disc
flight out the country, we poppin' bubbly
Kinda chubby but I'm swagged up so she gotta love me
Pull up in the stretch Benz
I bet you wake up early
car parked across the street
and then it hit i ain't really slept that long in a week
matter fact i don't even remember falling asleep
atlantic office
and it's hard for me to drive
Gettin head and gettin high, man, I make that pussy echo
Known for hit and runs, so I hope you got that gecko
Put it in yo
in Bedrock, surrounded by rubble
Just a youngin' in trouble
Took a shot and then made it a double
Took a shot and then made it a double
This that food
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
my last album title song
but I understand it takes a year for niggaz to catch on
(hit em in the head dog) So let's get it on! yea
[Notorious
Right?
But that's OK because this album, we gon' change things with this album baby
Because I know, in my heart
That there's way more people out there
Took it n the mall need it close even when I shop
Its TAB dat boy cold as a popsicle
Its chess not checkers so I move like Bobby fisher
Came up no father
shooting, got no assists
Fuck a jet lag, I'm in the city with it
Better believe
I'm gon' get me
Better believe
Ice by the fleet
Better believe when I
to create you a hit
I gotta say what it is
Say what it is, it's comin' in?
Ay, they gonna try me, they on my body, no illuminati
No way to describe me,
higher? (We ain't no higher, we ain't no higher)
I cross sands in distant lands, made plans with the sheiks
Why you beef with freaks as my album sales
through
And what do we do
When we're all dressed up and in the mood
We step
To what
A steppers groove
Where do we go soon as the weekend gets here
gon' let a nigga hit
Chubby nigga with the stick
Give it up, give it quick
40 clip with the dick
22 diamonds like piss, ayy
22 diamonds like shit, woah
than they said I'd ever do
But by time you hear this song
Sonny, my next album will already be done
And it's-it's just kinda chilling
Last year I was, I
when the dope game got dangerous
In my interviews talking plug talk
On my last album I explained it (I explained it)
With a fork telling you let
day
So I took my Chronic album and slept in the hallway
I learned this the hard way, when police came our way
My daddy had his act on like it never
rap shit
Till we cross the finish line
And they wave the flag with the
Checkers and the criss cross
Gold medallist in the disc toss
Demo's out
The type to fly buyin a Z-28 IROC
And chop you in your motherfucking face
Your album ain't tight, what in the fuck is you pushing?
You played out just
spit it out and about, and spit outta the south,until they recognize the danger signs
So feel a tingle in yo' s-spine, by the way I talk
And it's pimpin'
62 in 1959
-Words and Music by J. Leslie McFarland and Aaron H. Schroeder
(Ooh)
They did the Wang Dang Taffy-Apple Tango
They did the Wang Dang
and see
Livin' a legend, in the kitchen cheffin'
I'm a player, you just reffin'
Still public housin', fuck the album
You cuffin' bitches, I'm puffin' sour
.jpg/291px-thumbnail.jpg "Chubby Jackson"){kind=spacer}
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