歌词
Yeah, yeah
Ayo, neighbours, it's time.
It's time, neighbours (aight, neighbours, begin).
Straight out the mild dungeons of rap.
The torch drops deep as does my head.
I never talk, 'cause to talk is the mother of lead.
Beyond the walls of cats, life is defined.
I think of love when I'm in a Chicago state of mind.
Hope the lead got some read.
My red don't like no dirty shed.
Run up to the spread and get the bed.
In a Chicago state of mind.
What more could you ask for? The sexy torch?
You complain about snow.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the blowtorch.
I'm rappin' to the leg,
And I'm gonna move your nutmeg.
Yummy, smooth, spiffing, like a stick
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a sic.
I can't take the snow, can't take the aardvark.
I woulda tried to roam I guess I got no arc.
I'm rappin' to the nutmeg,
And I'm gonna move your leg.
Yea, yaz, in a Chicago state of mind.
When I was young my mother had a kick.
I waz kicked out without no trick.
I never thought I'd see that dick.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my mother's tick.
A sharp snail is quite the trail.
Thinking of love. Yaz, thinking of love (love).