Ch-check It Out

All you Trekkies and TV addicts

Don't mean to dis don't mean to bring static

All you Klingons in the fuckin' house

Grab your backstreet friend and get loud

Blowin' doors off hinges

I'll grab you with the pinchers

And no I didn't retire

I'll snatch you up with the needle nose pliers

Like Mutual of Omaha

Got the ill boat you've never seen before

Gliding in the glades, and like Lorne Greene you know I get paid

Like caprese with the basil

Not goofy like Darren or Hazel

I'm a mother fucking Nick at night

With classics rerunning that you know all right

Now remain calm no alarm cause my farm ain't fat, so what's up with that?

I've got friends and family that I respect when I think I'm too good they put me in check

So believe when I say I'm no better than you

Except when I rap so I guess it ain't true

Like that y'all and you just don't stop

Guaranteed to make your body rock

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out

What-wha-what-what-what's it all about

Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out

Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out

I said: Doc, what's the condition?

I'm a man that's on a mission. "

He said: Son, you'd better listen!

Stuck in your ass is an eletrician

Like a scientist, mmmm when I'm applying this

Method of controlling my mind like Einstein and the Rappin' Duke combined

Hey baby bubba now what the deal?

I didn't know you go for that mass appeal

Some call it salugi, some hot potato

I stole your mic and you won't see it later

Cause I work magic like a magician

I add up like a mathematician

I'm a bank cashier, engineer, I wear cotton but I don't wear sheer

Shazam! And Abracadabra!

In the whip I'm gonna cruise past ya

Yo money, don't chump yourself

Put that shit back on the shelf

Light rays blazin' you're out of phase and my crews amazin'

We're working on the record yo so stay patient

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out

What-wha-what-what-what's it all about

Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out

Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out

I go by the name of The King Adrock

I don't wear a cup nor a jock nor a thong

I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre, like Miss Piggy, who moi?

I am the one with the Clientele

You say: Adrock, God you rock so well

I 've got class like Pink Champale

MCA grab the mic before the mic goes stale

Don't test me

They can't arrest me

I'll fake right cross-over and shoot lefty

You look upset yo calm down

You look Cable Guy dunked off of your crown

I flow like smoke out a chimney

You never been me

You wanna rap but what you're making ain't hip hop B

Get your clothes right out the dryer

Put armor All up on your tire

Sport that fresh attire

Tonight we goin' out set the town on fire

Set the town ablaze

Gonna stun and amaze

Ready to throw a craze

Make your granny shake her head and say: Those were the days

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out

What-wha-what-what-what's it all about

Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out

Let's turn this motherfuckin' party out