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chubby checker - rob kelly lyrics

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2 birds in the sack that’s a double decker
kelly twist the lemon like chubby checker
dirty f-cker in a dirty sweater
sip the cold nectar, control your whole sector
stash the money in an old vectra
low and behold i get reloads from the selector
kelly got the old heads listening
kids need it in their life like discipline
i work it out i’m not bout fitness boy
i have your b-tch make me tea like mrs doyle
a staffordshire bull to sammy the bull
your mamy get pulled boy this ain’t amicable
i know, armed robbers that can arm robert
if you’re unruly, turn up with the hammer like
judge judy, yours truly kel terrible but of course
dude, leave you in bits like orange juice

come and do the twist like chubby checker
tell the dj play the bl–dy record
you can put your hands up and just leave em up
i’m in the corner of the room rolling reefer up
(repeat)

hop out the van chain swinging like a traveller
seen your little mrs i was grabbin her
i told her give me a kiss she on that wasting time
bullsh-t give me a miss ugh
i turned up with a rare one, in an old school
drug dealer beamer with the square front
i twist the spinach like olive oil
fire it up like a molotov
i pull the pocket off your puffa coat
i got the whole world knowing that i’m f-ckin dope
f-cking dopes know that im hard like old bread
big baby face -ss-ssin with the old head
james cagney i’m on top of the world
fellas come home from work and i’m on top of their girl
war of the roses and fatal attraction
i’m on the iphone taping the action get lost

come and do the twist like chubby checker
tell the dj play the bl–dy record
you can put your hands up and just leave em up
i’m in the corner of the room rolling reefer up
(repeat)

im pale skin and wavey so call me the silver sur-fer
wardrobe looking like a f-cking tesco burg-er
i whip the horse out like shergar
i’m doing morgues on the beat cos im commiting bl–dy murder
you won’t catch me on the scene if im type drugless
kelly bang b-tches like mike douglas
it’s my cross to bare i have a b-tch with some awesome hair
brush it for me
inhale deep smoke and blow it out the weed damp it kept going out
i was showing out you think your better than me
then you do it i stab you like piano keys playing in blues music
the smoke blowing like coltrane in the russian mountains screaming no pain
with a bad chick taking c-caine when it comes to the ruckus i make a mother f-cker sh-t
in a bucket f-ck off
come and do the twist like chubby checker
tell the dj play the bl–dy record
you can put your hands up and just leave em up
i’m in the corner of the room rolling reefer up
(repeat)

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