Organized Konfusion - Chuck Cheese Lyrics
[narrator]When you deal with the other side, you see thingsThey warn you, they let you know, about your friends around youPeople around your circumstancesOne must have belief in order to believeOne must see in order to knowThese little things I tell you is what's kept me hereIs what's made it, possible, for me to tell you this story[Prince Poetry]Chuck Cheese!Everybody neighborhood's *****-upA wild shorty, touched, heads got stuck upUnder the trestle wrestle with your chains 'til your neck muscleveins pop out, GIMME, paper cut your bled vesselsSo what you real?He'll test, no questionAlways on the ave in plex mode, impressinbaby girl with jewels and his pretty boy complexionHe was makin them lose their minds, packin two-two'sReady for testin plus prime timeStickin your ATM, expert, vickin your two-week's workJerk settle for lickin ya if any funny moves is madeKnown through the PJ's for puttin bodies in gravesAll over the tri-state, now why wait, when crime paysThat's what he started sayin from way back in the daysHe had plans, to stick up the bully, and his mansbut got caught up with the heatwhen jake rolled up in two fifty passenger vans(Aiyyo! Aiyyo! Get up off me man. Get up off me. I didn't do nuttin man! Yo, yo, whassup yo? What's the problem? What's the problem?){*"thugs bustin slugs..", "shorty's down for his respect"*[Prince Poetry]Anyway after puttin in three or three-to-fiveyou thought Chuck would be happy just to be aliveNow thoughts of cash (?) connectionsoccupied his mind first, a nigga didn't waste time gettin workWhen he seen the scheme gettin less greenChuck Cheese got grimy, him and about fourteenwas countin paper on the line at Green Acresand behind them was the shiny link, it's victim, a move-fakerAnd so they caught him on the way to the carIn the parkin lot a shot was heard from afar (whassup now sup now?)Money's grazed, shameless, without all of the frontinChuck, you know the one with the new link he's now manhuntinfor more, who get ten G's a wop, on the lowfrom two hot shot spots in Hollis bold G's that stolePushin weight, through the (?) Metro, he's contractedTwenty's a hit on his head, jealousy didn't like the way that he actedNow Chuck heard the news and got attractedReady to bring racket to the wrong full metal jacketBold, he got some love on the street, he knows about itNow a tactic or patient retaliation is routedHe gets outted!(Yo f'real, this little skillet-head nigga. Runnin around disrespectin, you know how we get down on Southside. Word to strength, he gots to go.I don't care HOW it happens!)[Rude One]Yo, the word got back, to my highest of rankThis cat's burnin my ears son, his suicidal tendenciesgot me askin about him, the word on the street isY'all ALL wanna out him, all present and accountedThere ain't no way around this dilemma, he's stoppin cheddarSeen the better part of life so yo he keeps a barettaBut all we gotta do is, follow plan A throughto the letter, y'all choose the in and outs on you[Prince Poetry]And just two days later Gator and Chuck was creepin up SuftonOut of the dark called yo Chuck they advanced and started buckin(What the *****?) He screamed with no time for duckin, six struckRules even apply in these mean streets nigga with no discussionAsk Chuck!{*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*
