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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. [Aaahh!] As you can see, Letras de cancionesI 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! From Letras Mania