In a Chicago state of mind
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).