Steerange

[Verse 1] It's time to get 'em, it's time, time to get 'em My vibe got to killing, my eyes start to glisten I ride the rhythm with signs like precision Right arm got to swinging, the highlight division In my mind I'm hearing the gospel choir singing I could not fight the feeling, I find it mighty thrilling The crowds start shifting, the broads get to gigging Their body parts wiggling, my kind of women Especially when they thick and pop all out the Denim It's really not a sin to admire what God give 'em I know my wife listening, come on, I'm only kidding I can find a lot iller way to grind at the living Don't think for not a minute that I forgot about my children Their little tummies is rumbling and I got to fill 'em I'm all about my business, sock 'em out if I'mma spitting It's kind of hard to fit it, my saga systems But I don't give a shit, my shows are hella intimate If you guys are a band, then where the hell are all your instruments Interesting, holla at the maid in D Pull something out the seat and season them up for me He asking my staff ''what's happening with your captain? He look like Gene Hackman and talk like Mars Blackmon'' Lobby at the W, the hotel was cracking I took off my jacket and called it a backspin [Verse 2] Let it be known I love all of my fans A lot of y'all are making water and they washing your hands Got a big box of vinyls, signed them all in advance So don't get off me with your slovenly ass and don't bother me I dress sharp like Dapper Dan Big white beard looking something like the Santa band The Kentucky Fried Chicken man Cush me like a pimp, said he had a biscuit in his hand So strange and I must admit Don't know what stranger shit it is, but I'm full of it I be that dude in my 80's still trying to spit You be saying ''yo, yo, I almost made it'', but you should've quit Till then I'm in the rain with some other men Riding on the train, tuxedo and some runner kicks I ain't paying out nothing to the government 'Til somebody run Biz Markie for president