album cover
Chuckie
9,625
Hip-Hop/Rap
Chuckie was released on July 9, 1991 by Rap-A-Lot as a part of the album We Can't Be Stopped
album cover
Release DateJuly 9, 1991
LabelRap-A-Lot
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM85

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bushwick Bill
Bushwick Bill
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Geto Boys
Geto Boys
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bushwick Bill
Bushwick Bill
Producer
James Smith
James Smith
Producer
John Bido
John Bido
Producer
Prince Johnny C
Prince Johnny C
Producer
Roland
Roland
Producer
Scarface
Scarface
Producer
Simon Cullins
Simon Cullins
Producer
Willie D
Willie D
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I told you size wasn't shit, that's why I murdered your nieces
Wasn't my fault they found their head cut in eighty-eight pieces
Don't let 'em run, hurry up and catch 'em
You grab an arm, I grab an arm let's pull 'till we stretch 'em
Play pussy, get fucked means you're better off dead
I wanted seafood so I fished in a child's head
Motherfuckers beware 'cause I'm sick
Dead heads and frog legs, mmm, cake mix
Friday the 13th, the Night of the Living Dead
Vampire arms walkin' 'round givin' **** head
If you didn't die, I would say you got lucky
All bodies found dead, fuck it, blame it on Chuckie
But this is child's play, motherfucker
[Verse 2]
Aw, fuck, Chuck's on a killin' spree
Gimme some barb and I'll start by killin' me
When I murder, I tried to slack off
Now a hundred missiles blew a little girl's back off
My name is Chuckie, some say I'm insane
You give me some gin, and I might eat a dog's brain
Give me a motherfucking fifteen pack
And I'll be damned if I don't bring fifteen dead **** back
A murder contest, you know I'll win it
'Cause in every mailbox, there be a head with a knife in it
I'm gettin' hungry, I need to be fed
I feel like eatin' a bag of barbequed broke legs
Bustin' necks with a motherfucking brick
Half my body is Chuckie, the other half is Bushwick
A short **** always pumpin' some lead
I haven't figured out a way to get my fist out your forehead
What up? Get up, sit up, you get lit up
A knife in his neck made a polar bear spit up
A 9, a Uzi is my only utensil
Inside his chest they found 10,000 pencils
You have the nerve to go against Chuck?
With fifty guns aimed at you, how the fuck you gonna duck, yo?
When I'm mad, I'm ready to slay
The graveyards are packed but it ain't nothing but child's play
[Verse 3]
You'd better murder me, put me to rest
But if you don't, I'll come out shootin' with my head in a bird's chest
Pissed off, the way I'm always soundin'
Killed a punk in '82, and they just now found 'im
Some say I'm crazy, some say I'm on crack
Before I die cut off my leg and let me die in Iraq
A born loser, some say I'm mindless
If I get pissed off, you leave naked and spineless
Worse than Charles Manson, never havin' a equal
Went sleepwalking last night and killed three hundred people
I woke up they had me chained to the floor
When they told me what I did I killed three hundred more, yo
You wanna rumble? Then go get your war hat
I went to jail for assault with a carjack
I might be small but my nuts are big
The worst thing that you could do is let me keep your fucking kids
'Cause I'ma teach 'em how to act
And if they ain't actin' right, they dyin' tonight
So, uh, ain't no use in you tryin' to spot 'em
I send you a motherfuckin' note that says "Chuckie's got 'em"
Written by: Geto Boys
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out􀆄 copy􀐅􀋲

Loading...