Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chief Boot Knocka, artist - Sir Mix-A-Lot. Album song Chief Boot Knocka, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: American
Song language: English
Chief Boot Knocka |
Chief boot knock |
Chief boot knocker |
(repeated — 4X) |
Here I am chief boot knocker |
Watch your skirt, if you don’t I got ya Tibbity toe, tibbity toe through the grass |
Old scallous ass nigga with a pocket full of cash |
Who that? |
rollin in a Viper |
Got much beef with the freeway sni-per |
He wants me cause I bumped his girlfriend |
Your suicidal tendencies are not my problem |
Low life DOG, chasin these skirts through the motherfuckin fog |
I’m that, black man with fourteen skirts in a black Scadan |
A fool named Draws in a seven six Kirk |
Parked at the bench and left his girl on trays |
Said get out the car bitch, that’s a mistake |
cause now I’m the beach with a rake |
The whole beach is smellin like indo |
I’m in a drop top Benzo on three piece rimzos |
Cranked up the bass just a little bit |
She turned to the left with the (*pause*) |
Mack Daddy is back and Charles is mad (* 2 gunshots *) |
Show Charles what I had |
Some niggaz is fine and some smooth talkers |
But they can’t fuck with the chief boot knocker |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my toma, tom, tomahawk |
And I here them sing |
Chief boot knocker. |
Chief boot knocker. |
Chief boot knocker |
Scam, scam devise another plan |
Take another girl from a cryin ass man |
Always askin her where she’s been |
She was rollin with me from six through ten (yep) |
Got home at ten thirty |
You was smellin her neck, tryin to see if she’s dirty |
You wanna beat her down, but you got no proof |
Now you shootin buckshot through the roof (yep) |
To much emotion, somebody rub this sissy boy down with lotion |
And now your tellin her to stay home |
But she can still call Mix on the telephone |
And there you go, slippin |
You promised her another ass whippin |
And you slap, slap, slap, now you feelin kinda macho |
+I Got Game+ and I took your Benzo |
What you gonna do with a cake boy’s nightmare |
Bought you a nine but you still looked scared |
AK-47? |
nope |
I run a HK-91 with the Leopold scope |
So eat that 308, fool |
Actin like a joke but Big Mack’s rule |
You had to inject but boy I shot ya Meet your new enemy the chief boot knocker |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
I meet a girl named Gail at a soul food restaurant |
Big fat rocks on her hand tryin flaunt |
Tried to step to her in the hall |
She said her ex-boyfriend plays pro football |
But I hate quarterbacks, but I like throwback |
on a young, fine brown skin snackpack |
She got a black SL, it was sittin on 19's lookin all swell |
I really don’t care about your boyfriend sweetness |
Jealousy is every man’s weakness |
But I ain’t no salt slinger, just a gang slinger |
And oh yes it’s the bird banger |
I followed Gail to the crib |
Walked in straight trippin off a how the girl lives |
Your man is a trick and his game is whipped |
I can pull you in a Benzo and a broke down jeep |
Take notes off the shit I just wrote |
Trick daddies get left in smoke |
A lot of copycat niggaz might jack ya But the game came way with the chief boot knocker |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Here’s my tomahawk |
Chief boot knocker |
Chief boot knocker |
Chief boot knocker |
Ch, chief boot knocker |
(*chants of chief boot knocker and Tomahawk Chop chant, continue until fade*) |