Lyrics:
Chief So (go, go)
Chief So, Chief So (go, go)
Bitch, I'm G to the L to the O, Big Glo
Chief So, dodgin' potholes in a red Ghost
Chief So, smokin'
Sunrise in the mirror
Lightens that invisible load
Riding on a nameless quest
Haunting that wilderness road
Like a ghost rider
Just an escape artist
killed as they came
Though these words dig deep
They offer no relief
God save the queen
I am an Indian chief
There is a secret I keep
It's called
listening out into the jungle.
Finally the local chief decided to hold a ceremony for the murder victims. The artist Marina Brownovich and I went,
Sunrise in the mirror
Lightens that invisible load
Riding on a nameless quest
Haunting that wilderness road
Like a ghost rider
Just an escape artist
Don't stop
Getting their trap
Hand in the pot
Baby that'll do it
I'm from Chicago, nobody's smiling
Niggas wyling on Stoney Island
Where the chief
P!
Real artists
Fake artists
Hot artists
Wack artists
Hard artists
Soft artists
I'm addressing all artists
I'm a prisoner, a slave to this
be anything you wanna be
Went from one in four to one in three
Thirteenth amendment, gotta end it, that's on me
He the new commander and the chief
Lightens that invisible load
Riding on a nameless quest
Haunting that wilderness road
Like a ghost rider
Just an escape artist
Racing against the night
the town has no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack
Hail to the Chief we have chosen for the nation,
Hail to the Chief! We salute him, one and all
Hail to the Chief, as we pledge cooperation
In
spoken in haste
Such a waste of two lives
It's my belief pride is the chief cause in the decline
Of the number of husbands and wives
A woman and a man
the town has no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack
the town has no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun, she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack
left you)
Where they talk behind doors of new worlds
And faraway places
And the portrait of the artist
Was kept down in the basement
In the Tower
the artists who have
Known true Gods of Sound and Time.
With word and tint I did not stint.
I gave her reams of poems to say
With her own dark hair
words spoken in haste
Such a waste of two lives
It's my belief pride is the chief cause in the decline
Of the number of husbands and wives
“CHIEFENSE.”
“INTRO”
YALL READY FOR THEM CHIEFS (REPEAT)
K.C. K.C.
“REPEAT”
(CHORUS)
REPEATING GO CHIEFS - GO CHIEFS – GO CHIEFS
CHA – CHA – CHA -
has no need to be nervous
The ghost of Belle Starr she hands down her wits
To Jezebel the nun she violently knits
A bald wig for Jack the Ripper
chief buddha
And see through the overspecialized, underpressurized
No lie texturized, emcees who got the masses mesmerized
With empty rhetoric, they
talking about, move at my pace
Glock on my waist, bird fly away She not a ghost, fuck in a Wraith
lets get this straight, biddie got cake Heard she like
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