Check Out Time

Hey, what time is it nigga?
I don't know.
Oh shit, 12 o' clock.
Oh shit!
We gotta get the fuck up outta here!
Hell yeah!
Nigga, it's check out time, nigga!
Hey call Kurupt, call Daz, call Suge,
call all those niggas up from eating downstairs.
Tell the valet to bring the Benz around.
Hey Kurupt, y'all niggas drivin' or are y'all flyin' back? What's up?
Man, I'm rollin' man. Fuck that shit.
Hey Syke man, come on man. Get up out the bathroom fool, let's go!
I lost some money, nigga.
Aw, nigga.
Daz!

(Tupac)
Now I'm up early in the mornin', breath stinkin' as I'm yawning.
Just another sunny day in California.
I got my mind focused on some papers while I'm into sexy capers.
Give a hollar to them hoochies. Last night they tried to rape us.
Will these rap lyrics take us? Plus room all up in Vegas.
I'm a Boss Playa, death before I let these bitches break us.
Last night was like a fantansy, Alize and Henessee.
A hoochie and her homie dirty dancin' with my man and me.
Told her I was interested, picture all the shit we did.
I got her hot and horny, all up on me, what a freaky bitch!
First you argued, then I fight it, 'till you lick me where I like it.
Got a nigga all excited, it don't matter just don't bite it.
I never got to check out the scence,
too busy trying to dig a hole in your jeans.
Now it seems, it's check out time.

We got to go, we got to go.
Its check out time.
We got to go, we got to go. We got to go, we gotta go.

(Kurupt)
They label me an outlaw, so its time for the panty raid.
My fantansies came true with Janet on a midnight escapade.
Did it all end too soon?
All the homies runnin' through the halls room to room.
So I assume since I'm a playa like my nigga Syke,
then it's only right for me to disappear into the night.
My game's Trump tight, so I find time to recline.
Sneak into your room instant massage, shit, 
wines of all kinds. I ain't got that much time
so hurry up and pop the dime and let me hit it from behind.
Since I'm only here for one night,
I got to get you hot and heated.
Play like Micheal Jackson and Beat It.
One more thing I'd like to mention, I'm done and I'm out,
'cause there's someone else who deserves my atttention.
So all the homies round up in the lobby,
'cause busting bitches is a hobby, nigga.
It's check out time.
Hey, yo man. Pac, hey where the fuck is Daz at, man?

We got to go, we got to go. We got to go, we gotta go.
We got to go, we got to go. We got to go, we gotta go.

(Syke)
Now I'm living the life of a Boss Playa.
The front desk callin' but I'm checking out later.
My behavior is crazy from what you did to me baby.
If walls could talk they'd say "you tried to fade me."
I'm putting in work, but didn't hurt from the jacuzzi to the bed.
Carressing your thoughts 'cause I'm living fed.
Heard what I said? Passion is crashing the room,
from the liquor we consumed I heard a boom.
I'm blacking out, you're yelling out "Big Syke, Daddy!"
We did it in the Caddy on the highway, my way.
I'm lost in a dream and so it seemed to be the night.
Five bottles of chrystal and I'm still tight.
Out of site, for Pac and Kurupt.
As I get it up, once the doors close you're stuck.
In a heated sticky situation,
get up baby, you ain't on vacation.
It's check out time.

We got to go (repeated till end...)

(Syke)
Hey, it's check out time.
Hey Pac! Nigga, Where my mother-fuckin'?
Where my shoes go, nigga?
Where my mother-fuckin' drawers and shit at?
Y'all niggas was in here partyin' too fuckin' much.
What the fuck y'all doin', nigga?
Kurrupt! Go tell Daz Me & the rest of them niggas,
come on, man!
Niggas is trippin', man!
Write that song, callin' me and telling me to get the hell out here, man.
I ain't got no more money. Somebody loan me a hundred, man.



Transcription 1996 by Jim Moore for Relativity Labs.
Written by Tupac Shakur, J. Jackson, T. Himes, R. Brown.
Copyright 1996, Death Row Records/Interscope Records. All Rights Reserved.
Used without permisson.