"Ch-Check It Out" lyrics

Oh, what you...what are you saying?

All you Trekkies and TV addicts
Don't mean to diss, don't mean to bring static
All you Klingons in the fucking 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 a needle-nose pliers

Like Mutual of Omaha
Got the ill boat you've never seen before
Glidin' in the glades
And like Lorne Greene, you know I get paid
Like caprese and with the basil
Not goofy like Darren or Hazel
I'm a motherfuckin' 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 motherfucking 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 electrician."
Like a scientist
Mm, when I'm applying this
Method of controlling my mind
Like Einstein and the Rapping Duke combined

Now, hey, baby bubba, now what's the deal?
I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it "salugi", some "hot potato"
I stole your mic, but you won't see it later
'Cause I work magic like a magician
I add up, the mathematician
I'm a bank cashier, engineer
I wear cotton and 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 blazing, you're out of phase, and my crew's amazing
We're working on the record, yo, so just 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 motherfucking party out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out

Now, I go by the name of the King Ad-Rock
I don't wear a cup nor a jock
I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre
Like Miss Piggy (Who, moi?)
I am the one with the clientele
You say, "Ad-Rock, 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 like 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

Now
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."

Now 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 motherfucking party out