Lyrics Check Yo Self (remix) - Ice Cube , Das EFX

So come on and chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Check, check.
You betta check yo self.
For you wreck yo self.
'Cause I'm bad for your health.
I come real stealth.
Droppin' bombs on ya moms
Fuck car alarms.
Do without one mother nigga wit yo alpine.
Sold it for six-o, always let tricks know.
And friends know, we got that indoe.
Yo, I'm not a sucka sittin' in a house of pain.
And no I'm not the butler, i'll cut ya head-butt ya.
You say you can't touch this.
And I wouldn't touch ya, punk motherfucker.
Here to let you know boy, oh boy.
I make dough, but don't call me dough-boy.
This ain't no fuckin' motion picture.
A guy or bitch-a, my nigga get wit ya.
And hit ya, makin' they yack to the neck.
So you better run a check.
So come on and chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Yo, common, chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
'Cause shotgun bullets.
Are bad for your health.
Tricks wanna step to cube and then they get played.
'Cause they bitch may pullin out a switchblade.
That's kinda trifle.
'Cause that's a knife-o AK-47 assault rifle.
Hold the fifty, I' nifty now.
Gotta a new style, watch out now.
I hate motherfuckers.
Claimin' that they foldin'.
Bank but steady talkin shit in the holdin'.
Tank first you wanna step to me.
Now your ass screamin' for the deputy.
They send you to Charlie-Baker-Denver row.
Now the runnin' up in ya slow.
You're God, used to be the Don Juan.
Now your name is just Twan.
Switch it, snap it, rollin your eyes and neck.
You better run a check.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Come on an' chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Big dicks in ya ass is bad for your health.
Come, yeah.
If you're foul.
You better run a make on that license plate.
You coulda had a V8.
Instead of a trey-eight slug to ya cranium.
I got six and I'm aimin' em.
Will I bust or keep you guessin'.
'Cause fuck you and that shit ya stressin'.
Bitch, get off the wood, you no good.
There goes the neighborhood hooker.
Go ahead and keep your drawers.
Givin' up the claps and who needs applause.
At a time like this, pop ya coochie and ya dead.
Bitch is a Miami hurricane head.
Sprung, niggas call her lips and lungs.
Nappy dugout, get the fuck out.
'Cause women like you gets no respect.
Bitch, you better run a check.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Come on an' chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
'Cause bitches like you.
Is bad for my health.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
Come on an' chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
So chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
So chick-ity-check yo self
Before you wreck yo self.
Come on an' chick-ity-check yo self.
Before you wreck yo self.
'Cause the lench mob.
Is bad for ya health.
Nine-trey, remix.
Old school tip, yeah.
It's like a jungle.
Sometimes it makes me wonder.
How I keep from goin' under?