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Pocket-Check

This song is by 8-Bit.

Pocket-check, pocket-check, pokect-check, pocket-check.
Motherfucker!
Pocket-check, pocket-check, pokect-check, pocket-check.
Bitch!

Back in the day I used to work at Burger King,
But that wouldn't get my ass the raise that I wanted.
So, I started pocket-checkin'
And now my money stacks up to the ceiling.
'Cause I can spot a fucking mark in a minute,
And if his wallet's fat you know I'm up in it.
Got a wall full of wallets hanging on my wall-
They's my trophies, y'all.

Pocket-checkin' you
Is what I'm gonna do.
If you don't like it,
Fuck you!
Any other job would fuckin' bore me,
But now I'll tell you bitches a God damn story.
One day in Glore I was pocket-checkin'
And this kid pulled out his gat.
He shot.
And I shot.
As you can see,
I cold killed his bitch ass!

Pocket-check, pocket-check, pokect-check, pocket-check.
Motherfucker!
Pocket-check, pocket-check, pokect-check, pocket-check.
Bitch!

What a wonderful thing having a gun can be,
'Cause now I can rob every-fuckin'-body.
"Give me some God damn booze,"
That's the line I use,
Then I kick 'em in the ass with these metal ass God damn shoes.
I want at least a dollar seventy-five
From every piece of shit that wanna stay alive,
'Cause I run on double A's and my power's low.
You know...
Pocket-check, ho.

The second you enter my hood:
Wrong place, wrong time,
'Cause you know I gotta get mine.
Work is for suckas and suckas is workin'.
My crew robs their ass and be straight trippin' the fuck out.
Onto the the next victim,
Pocket-check their ass with robotic precision.
I stalk in the night like a hawk and then I swoop down,
Put a gun to their head and then we all shout-

Pocket-check, pocket-check, pokect-check, pocket-check.
Motherfucker!
Pocket-check, pocket-check, pokect-check, pocket-check.
Bitch!

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