Hot time, we're ballin' in the city. Nay hoe mah dai loe, means "we get busy". I sing that, you ding bat, these lyrics are "bling bling"- phat. I have'em fresh like Glad Cling Wrap. I'm the "Chinese Count". I decide my amount after I divide the accounts. I checked you're post on E-bay and got out bidded with no leeway. I'm keepin' them paid, like Brett Favre out in Green Bay. Or Bledsoe from Foxboro, you know Hubie-rocks thorogh- rhythmic flows. My typing shows got you thinking, yo. Take me on a mission or better yet, take me out fishing. In romance, my vision's got me kissin' in the back of the 2002 Ford Expedition. I've been around like Rudy Tomjonavich, from the Houston Rockets. I don't use Curex spray. I stick my hands in my pockets for my jock itch. Remember there was Gilligan and the Skipper. Now go peep Kobe Bryant, the Gatorade Fruit Punch sipper. Lakers, Avalanche and Ravens. In my observation, there's no relation but the 2000-AND1 trophy presentations. It's only Hubierock chillin'. I can't stop pimpin'. Catch me in the club, way back in the day, like Scott Pippen. Don't eat pork from the pigpens. Instead, get a little extra crispy, Kentucky Fried Chicken. It hit's the spot when ya'll buy a bucket. After you're done with the bones, just chuck it. I'm pulling your strings like Metallica's Master of Puppets. Number 34, Shaquille O'Neal, with west coast flows almost close to Cypress Hill's B-Real. I got the unsinkable taste like General Mills Cereal. That's bananas and skim milk with toasted oats, Cherrios. You can substitute that for strawberries & cream, hot oatmeal.

 

H- is for "Hubee" and all my peoples who know me.

U- is for you suckkahz and the rest of you punk mothaphuckaz. 

B- is for Brooklyn, where styles are cookin and the girls are good lookin'.

I- is for thee, the one and only Super Hubey.

E- is for everybody. I tie my Air Jordans with more than 2 knots, G.

R- is for rock, to everyone readin' this fly Asian jock.

O- is for yo. Say oh no, oh yo, no. I'm so remarkable.

C- is for fit cats and anytime ya'll want to chit-chat. If not, then go get a Kit-Kat.

K- is for King. You know how my flow goes, what am I saying.

 

     I said it already, I'm down with the NBA. I like to do things in a friendly way. Like Spike Lee, I drink Brooklyn's own Snapple Iced Tea. Ask me for one, please means nicely. I'm like a Ghostbuster. Coolin' in the city with the most hustlers. I also got peoples together in Rutgers. Peep this, I chill on the block with my vanilla Coca-Cola. Dial the seven or eleven digits on this Timeport, Motorola. Talkin' to all my Sunset mommies, hey yo, hola? In the store about to geez-it. Hell with it, bust open a box of Sunshine Cheez-Its. Security caught you on camera and told you to beat it. I'll bust ya face like a pimple. It's so simple, you should put your rap on several grams of ginko. These lyrics are made for Beethoven. Lay low and, listen to my cd spinnin' like a subway token. Meet me in the train staion, you. I'm through with playing the Play Station 2. I told ya'll I was an Asian, caucasian wearing blue. It's the same gong. I'm taking Chinese1.1 but I don't know Faye Wong. For now, I can show you how, I sing my songs from here to Hong Kong. Till next time, see you later, so long.