Check it Out lyrics

by

Das EFX


Aaah ha ha ha (Check this out!)
Wooh! Check it out (Check this out)
Aaaah yeah (Check this out)
Ya just don't stop, kid ya just don't stop (Check this out)
Yeah ya just don't stop, word up
Aaah yeah!

Chorus (x8):

Check it out y'all (Check it check it out, y'all)

Verse 1: Dray, Books

Well check it out, it's the incredible, never edible, unforgettable
Dweller from the cellar kickin terror cos I'm terrible
See I be schoolin em, foolin em when I'm speakin it
Deep in it cos y'all be peepin it, look how I'm freakin it
I got'cha tinglin, jinglin and minglin
What a way to go, the radio they got my single in
They rockin this, ain't no toppin this when I'm droppin this
Style that I compile cos yo I'm wild like a rhinoceros
My skill is illy, silly when I work it
Quick to flip the lip or rip a n*gga out the circuit
So step wit it, can ya get wit it when I'm flexin it
Takin out these crooks cos my n*gga Books is next in it
I'm ready on the set, check it
You're wonderin where the heck I've been
Chillin stupid, cos it ain't no trooper who got wrecker than
The boogie banger, it could be danger to battle us
Cos we guys make n*ggas wanna revise their rap books
What up kid? I can serve it rugged with the hip-hoppin
Throw it, like the semen from my nuts up to my di*k top
What a bummer, it seems to be no MC can get dumber than
Me one of the, two n*ggas from the
Sewer, my sh*t is milk without the magnesia
Cos G, I be's the man from here to Indonesia
Aah yeah, you heard me, slick, I'm just another dirty di*k
Dastardly, casually
I puffs the herb to get stoned like the sinner, so

Chorus

Verse 2: Dray, Books

Here I come so, um, batten down the hatches (n*ggas)
I snatches n*ggas' titles when I catches
n*ggas in the dark, I spark at them like I was matches
I trigger quicker, kick a verse with no distortion
I suggest MC's proceed with some caution
I tip, dip, grip and trip because there ain't no
Way you're gonna live when I erupt like a volcano
I'm acid, my crew is massive, you're soft like jello
I'm gettin props, dagnabbit, like Abbott & Costello
When I flaunt this, n*ggas want this, style I be usin
A switch it when I pitch it, cos b*tch I bring confusion
Comin to get'cha it's the dingbat
So n*gga think back to the way I bring this
Or brung that, I swung that, now look at the way I'm swingin this
Just like my name was Joe DiMaggio
And hell Dray! My 12 gauge spits shells like pistachios
We can get it on and, word is born and, f*ck who you be G
Your crew is easy just like Sunday mornin when I'm yawnin so
It's no sense in you losin what you got kid
Cos G I be doin the mic like Mr. Chi be doin the chopsticks
Ya gets done, black, no matter where ya from, jack
For fun, I'm nailin rappers like a thumb tack
I'm sorta spliffed so I don't think n*ggas oughta riff
Plus I'm the type you might not like to leave your daughter with

Chorus

(Check this out) [x9]

Chorus to fade
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