Butter King Jewels
Lyrics
Check 'em out, check 'em out
Check 'em out, check 'em out
Check 'em out, check 'em out
Check 'em out, check 'em out
Once again
Ready to test
You've got power, go easy at first
Control on, how's that so far, so good
Turn on the suction pumps pumps on, stand by
It's working, it's blowing in nodules
"If they like me they should go
Out and buy my records
If they don't like me they
Shouldn't buy my records"
"'Scuse me, I gotta tie my shoe now"
"Are you rolling?"
"Don't roll, don't roll, I gotta tie my shoe"
"Are we almost through?"
"Why, don't you like to make records?" "Uh"
"As soon as you get your shoe tied
We'll roll it" "You rolling?!"
"Haha" "Bastards"
"Are you rolling?!" "are you rolling!?"
"Are you rolling?"
Now ladies and gentlemen
To bring to the floor
A record that was so dirty, so rough
This is the type of record
That you would take a take two
The beat is sicker than the
Blood in your stool
The way it repeats can trick
Ya like a stuttering fool
Uttering butter king jewels
His mudda been cool
Schooled on how to wash away the
Crud in the drool pool
Made his chrome dome glisten
At first he couldn't tell she
Had a chromosome missin'
Kept a spare somewhere
In these underwear, he swear
To helped her get the gum out her hair
They need to get they thumb out they rears
And show some skills the one time
They come out in years
Instead of dumbin' out in fears
Of they own shadow
In a game that swell 'em up
To dead 'em like cattle
Take your rattle and skadaddle
Before you get a whippin' with
The pen and pad paddle
Ghouls, got 'em modeling gear
He came with more rhymes
Than molecules in air
Make that money yeah!
The track was like a thorn in his back
As for the rhymes, I'll
Give y'all fair warnin', it's crack
Whoever start smokin', come back
Quit, or catch a heart attack
Up in some bum shack
Sharper than a thumb tack
His body was a temple made
Of chemicals to the dimple
To him still it wasn't so simple
Kept his right and left hand beefin'
One knockin' teeth in, the other one chiefin'
But first
This song'll make you wanna stomp ya ten toes
Swooped up hooptie Pinto off a pimp my whip
Before they put the system in
And had it all stripped
It ain't no need to trip
Indeed he ripped scripts from here to Jebip
Get a grip, leave it a dag mess for beer
Burnin' like a bag of schwag cess in the air
'Cause when ya can't get them food
Stamps and ya belly hungry ya ain't happy
I ain't never seen a
Hungry happy motherfucker!
We gon' get to meetin' on the way
But before we get to meetin' on the way
I got a special announcement to make
Writer(s): OTIS JACKSON, DANIEL DUMILE THOMPSON
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
The Meaning of Butter King Jewels
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