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Jawsome Video (MV)




Performed By: Chucky Chee$e
Length: 3:12
Written by: Charles Gale




Chucky Chee$e - Jawsome Lyrics




Why you even asking who's the king of this poetry
Knowing good and god damn well that you know it's me
I always been lucky, deal with it, that's how it goes
I could walk thru a shit storm come out smelling like a rose
Fist to chin, on my throne, that's the pose
Call me Conan, I'm barbarian these hos
I'm only hear to restore the game and I'm gonna bring that shit back like some f*ckin Rogaine
I played chicken with a train and I never even moved
Who the f*ck you think it was that gave Stella back her groove
Listen Sherlock, you better get a clue
Dear Watson, I been watchin
You Bubaclots f*ckin amaze me, Jamaican me crazy
Real talk, this is history in the making
Who gone scoop me up, Ricky, 50, or Puff
Who gone see the diamond in the rough, uhh
I feel no pressure but I know that it's crunch time
Haters wondering where will I go with my next line
So many topics to touch
Like how I hate your guts, worse than the inside of a Dutch
Or how I got the game in the f*ckin cobra clutch and I'm only goin up
Don't get it confused, even if I gotta use, like 500 balloons
My paradise will never fall, are you listening Lord Jamar, I'll put your head up on my wall
I'm head hunting, got you scared to stick your neck out pussy and say something
Say something

So refined, but know the streets
Find yourself in troubled waters that are far too deep
The edge is steep, don't go off the deep end
Have that ass sleeping with the fishes by weekend

Chuck's back to his old ways, f*ck gotten into him
The game got too many Chiefs and not enough Indians
Bitch, I'm Sitting Bull, bullshittin around the pool
Vodka and Red bull, recipe to act da fool
I pity who, dare gets in my path
Psycho before the wrath, had respect before cash
Raise a glass, to the ghost of my past
Those who don't fly straight, sure as hell don't last
And I'm the last, what's know as a dying breed
Before I checkout, you gone checkout my legacy
Great White off the hook, wild beast off the chain
Either one works well, when you mention my name
Gettin warmed up, I'm a pro with the pain
Flow so hot, that it's blue with the flame
Burn this bitch down, Smokey Bear left to blame
I'll kill you, and the lame that you came with
The game, I will maim, and my name will remain king

So refined, but know the streets
Find yourself in troubled waters that are far too deep
The edge is steep, don't go off the deep end
Have that ass sleeping with the fishes by weekend

90's era hip hop, can't seem to let go
2019, in the booth with Ecko
Yo Marko, tell Polo, these fishes outta water
Why you swine, wasting my time, got pigs to slaughter
You dummy's playing with fire, you must be brainless
You just a lying coward, and yo, this shit is dangerous
Chuck Gale like Dorothy, no place like home
Click my Tim's 3 X's, right back on the throne
Karmas a bitch, she hates it when your late
She told me to meet you, bout a quarter till 8:00
Unfortunate for you, it's at the bottom of my lake
But first, Old sport, need those fingers for bait
Lord have mercy, no, for heaven sake
Please don't kill me Gatsby
Shhhhhhh, call me great
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Why you even asking who's the king of this poetry
Knowing good and god damn well that you know it's me
I always been lucky, deal with it, that's how it goes
I could walk thru a shit storm come out smelling like a rose
Fist to chin, on my throne, that's the pose
Call me Conan, I'm barbarian these hos
I'm only hear to restore the game and I'm gonna bring that shit back like some f*ckin Rogaine
I played chicken with a train and I never even moved
Who the f*ck you think it was that gave Stella back her groove
Listen Sherlock, you better get a clue
Dear Watson, I been watchin
You Bubaclots f*ckin amaze me, Jamaican me crazy
Real talk, this is history in the making
Who gone scoop me up, Ricky, 50, or Puff
Who gone see the diamond in the rough, uhh
I feel no pressure but I know that it's crunch time
Haters wondering where will I go with my next line
So many topics to touch
Like how I hate your guts, worse than the inside of a Dutch
Or how I got the game in the f*ckin cobra clutch and I'm only goin up
Don't get it confused, even if I gotta use, like 500 balloons
My paradise will never fall, are you listening Lord Jamar, I'll put your head up on my wall
I'm head hunting, got you scared to stick your neck out pussy and say something
Say something

So refined, but know the streets
Find yourself in troubled waters that are far too deep
The edge is steep, don't go off the deep end
Have that ass sleeping with the fishes by weekend

Chuck's back to his old ways, f*ck gotten into him
The game got too many Chiefs and not enough Indians
Bitch, I'm Sitting Bull, bullshittin around the pool
Vodka and Red bull, recipe to act da fool
I pity who, dare gets in my path
Psycho before the wrath, had respect before cash
Raise a glass, to the ghost of my past
Those who don't fly straight, sure as hell don't last
And I'm the last, what's know as a dying breed
Before I checkout, you gone checkout my legacy
Great White off the hook, wild beast off the chain
Either one works well, when you mention my name
Gettin warmed up, I'm a pro with the pain
Flow so hot, that it's blue with the flame
Burn this bitch down, Smokey Bear left to blame
I'll kill you, and the lame that you came with
The game, I will maim, and my name will remain king

So refined, but know the streets
Find yourself in troubled waters that are far too deep
The edge is steep, don't go off the deep end
Have that ass sleeping with the fishes by weekend

90's era hip hop, can't seem to let go
2019, in the booth with Ecko
Yo Marko, tell Polo, these fishes outta water
Why you swine, wasting my time, got pigs to slaughter
You dummy's playing with fire, you must be brainless
You just a lying coward, and yo, this shit is dangerous
Chuck Gale like Dorothy, no place like home
Click my Tim's 3 X's, right back on the throne
Karmas a bitch, she hates it when your late
She told me to meet you, bout a quarter till 8:00
Unfortunate for you, it's at the bottom of my lake
But first, Old sport, need those fingers for bait
Lord have mercy, no, for heaven sake
Please don't kill me Gatsby
Shhhhhhh, call me great
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Charles Gale
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid


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