Chubb Rock - 3 Men at Chung King lyrics

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Verse One: Red Hot Lover Lover Tone

The pen hits the paper, ink spills and fills, the lines

With lyrics that thrills like my dillz

Take it on the Grilled Cheese tour, then I drop it

Don't care about the niggaz cause the girls are gonna jock it

Take her to my hotel, no speaking, just freaking

Leave my door open so the niggaz can come peak in

Rip the nappy dug out niggaz bug out with the hopes

they can get theirs, but in the meantime they takin notes

Here comes my kid, here comes my kid (ahhhhh)

But I caught him in the rubber lid, huh

Chitty chitty bang bang, gotta go gotta go

The hoe is in a coma so I tippy tippy toe

Walkin in the dark (tripped) slipped on my shoe

(Arrrrgh!! Ohh shit!!) [Tone is that you?]

Damn, more fornication

Puba take the mic cuz I'm here for the duration

Verse Two: Grand Puba

Before I get this wreck I usually start with a 40

But forties are no more cuz now I'm drinkin 64's

Call on Grand Puba, Chubb Rock if you want it done

Hon spread the 411 as if her name was Kaity Chung

Into devil bashing, always stay in fashion

Love maxing and relaxing, hittin skins with a passion

As a shorty I kept some dice I banked on seven or eleven

Cuz my pops had it hard similar to James Evans

Now shit flipped, I'm on the hip-hop

To the beat you don't stop, rock on!

I kick the new type of lingo, hit the spot that'll tingle

Make the girls wanna jingle, so they run and get the single

My simple task is to make you shake that ass

on the quick fast, and to make it last

It's just three men at Chung King getting busy

We've come a long way since Kunta Kintizzy

and you don't stop, rock on

Chubb Rock flip the script cuz I'm gone

Verse Three: Chubb Rock

Yippi-yi-yeah, stay, hooray, yo, hurrah

I jumped up upon the mic with the Chubbster, Tone, plus the Pu-ba

Intricately go far

Chillin in the mansion, nuff fashion (ahhh)

Relax, and dig into the track and react

I want a Martin Luther riff cuz I don't like to pack my iron

Watchin kids on the corner buyin, gettin zooted then lyin

Test and I commence, to firing

One two three shots and then I tune the black watch

Reclean my cylinder and then I grab my crotch

and squeeze, the testes and then I grab my wood and cup it

Oh there goes the nut I just busted

Get myself together, cuz I'm the man

I knew it, I wanted to do a duet with the Grand

Mystic ruler took the 40 out of the cooler

Now we're rippin the track, we shoulda did one sooner

And then we roll up on the groove field assist the team

And now I'm straighter than 9:15

Get a little dough for this three man skit

I'll end the jam with a curse

Uhh, umm fuck?

Or is it damn? Or what?

SHIT. And slide out of the vocal booth and get a dollar Chung King soda

Grand Puba, Tone, plus now we're over and we're out