Lyrics:

Ch-Check It Out
All you Trekkies and TV addicts, don't mean to dis, don't mean to bring static
All you Klingons in your Grandma's house, grab your backstreet friend and get loud
Blowin' doors off the hinges, I'll grab you with the pincers
And no, I didn't retire, I'll snatch you up with the needle-nose pliers

Like Mutual of Omaha got the ill boat you never seen before
Glidin' in the 'glades and like Lorne Greene you know I get paid
Like Caprese with the basil, not goofy like Darren or Hazel
I'ma huh ha like Nick at Nite with the classics rerunning that you know all right

Now remain calm, no alarm, 'cause my Farm ain't Phat, so what's with that?
I've got friends and family that I respect, when I think I'm too good they put me in check
So believe what I say I'm no better than you, except when I rap so I guess it ain't true
Like that y'all and you just don't stop guaranteed to make your body rock

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this party out

I said 'Doc, what's the condition? I'm a man that's on a mission.'
He said 'Son, you'd better listen, stuck in your what! is an electrician.'
Like a scientist, mmm, when I'm applyin' this, method of controlling my mind
Like Einstein and the Rappin' Duke combined

Hey baby Bubba now what's the deal? I didn't know you go for that mass appeal
Some call it salugi, some hot potato, I stole your mic and you won't see it later
'Cause I work magic like a magician, I add up like a mathemetician
I'm a bank cashier, engineer, I wear cotton but I don't wear sheer

Shazam! and Abra-cadabra! In the whip I'm gonna cruise right past ya
Yo money, don't chump yourself put that what! back on the shelf
Light rays blazin', you're out of phase and my crew's amazin'
We're working on a record yo so just be patient

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this party out

Now I go by the name of the King Ad-Rock, I don't wear a cup nor a jock
I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre, like Miss Piggy 'Who, Moi?'
I'm the one with the clientele, you say 'Ad-Rock, god you rock so well.'
I've got class like pink champale, MCA grab the mic before the mic goes stale

Don't test me, they can't arrest me, I'll fake right, cross-over and shoot lefty
You look upset, yo calm down, you look like Cable Guy dunked off of your crown
I flow like smoke out a chimney, you never been me
You wanna rap but what you're makin' ain't hip-hop B

Get your clothes right out the dryer, put the Armor All up on your tire
Sport the fresh attire, tonight we goin' out set the town on fire
Set the town ablaze, gonna stun and amaze, ready to throw a craze
Make your Granny shake her head and say 'Those were the days.'

Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out
What-wha-what-what-what's it all about
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out
Let's turn this party out