Ch-check It Out

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 turn this party out

Sidenote: Indeed, this is the clean version.

This ditty has been stuck in my head for the past week. And there is no sign of stopping.

I guess in one sense, this song could just mean subversion checkouts. But that’d be too nerdy, and so I’ll stop there.

Another stanza of goodness:

Now remain calm no alarm

Cause my farm ain’t fat

So what’s up 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 when 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

Just replace “rap” with “code”. This song is sick.

 

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