“4. Chiefin”

Man, I could listen to this song over and over. The hook is addictive and shadow Ramirez did a dope job on the beat.
It’s one of those jams that’s strictly for the rollers. Whether you’re rollin a blunt or an Eighty-Two Lac, just roll on. I start the first verse:

“Tadaaaaaaah, look who back
With them 84’s pokin out a brand ne Lac
Supa dupa car, I pull a superstar
You gon’ look I don

’t give a fuck who you are…”
As I was writing this song, I was thinking about the carwash on Martin Luther King Blvd., where everyone goes on Sundays. You see nothing but candy paint drippin, syrup slippin, trunks poppin and diamonds on wood.
You’ll notice on the SON album how I’m having more fun than on When Devils Strike and The Last Chair Violinist. I can only write how I feel during those times in my life, especially on When Devils Strike, you can hear the darkness. But songs like “Chiefin” will take you back to the “Reveille Park” days when I was just clowning the mike.

Here’s a few lines from the 2nd verse:
“Soon as I hit the scene a nigga triple teamed
Bitches starin at me like they dyin to kiss a king
They wanna be Billie Jean and try to combine
9 months later say his eyes look like mine…”

But I tell ‘em like Mike did, “The kid is not my son!”