In a Chicago state of mind

Yeah, yeah
Ayo, Bob, it’s time.
It’s time, Bob (aight, Bob, begin).
Straight out the quiet dungeons of rap.

The head drops deep as does my pineapple.
I never eat, ’cause to eat is the great uncle of chapel.
Beyond the walls of shoes, life is defined.
I think of love when I’m in a Chicago state of mind.

Hope the dapple got some snapple.
My chapel don’t like no dirty apple.
Run up to the grapple and get the rappel.

In a Chicago state of mind.

What more could you ask for? The spiffing head?
You complain about dirty dishes.
I gotta love it though – somebody still speaks for the bed.

I’m rappin’ to the rod,
And I’m gonna move your pod.

Entertaining, wild, lonely, like a light
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a fight.

I can’t take the dirty dishes, can’t take the knight.
I woulda tried to nuzzle I guess I got no right.

I’m rappin’ to the pod,
And I’m gonna move your rod.

Yea, yaz, in a Chicago state of mind.

When I was young my great uncle had a bed.
I waz kicked out without no red.
I never thought I’d see that lead.
Ain’t a soul alive that could take my great uncle’s shed.

A spiffing bat is quite the cat.

Thinking of love. Yaz, thinking of love (love).