Check Out Time lyrics

[Intro: 2Pac, Kurupt & Syke]
Ayy, what time is it, n*gga?
I don't know
Oh sh*t, 12 o'clock? Oh sh*t, we got to get the f*ck up outta here (Hell, yeah)
Damn
n*gga, it's check out time, n*gga
Hey, call up Kurupt, call Daz room
Hey there, b*tch, where Suge at, n*gga?
Call Suge, call all the n*ggas, tell 'em to meet me downstairs
Where K and them n*ggas at, man?
Tell the valet, bring the Benz around
Ayy, y'all seen my shoes?
Hey, Kurupt, y'all n*ggas drivin' or y'all flyin' back, what's up?
Ayy, n*gga, you seen my— where the keys at, man?
Man, I'm rollin', man, f*ck that sh*t
Who got the keys?
Ayy, Syke, n*gga, come on, man, get up out the bathroom, fool
f*ck that
I lost some money, n*gga
Ahh, n*gga
Damn

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Now I'm up early in the mornin', breath stinkin' as I'm yawnin'
Just another sunny day in California
I got my mind focused on some papers while I'm into sexy capers
Give a holler to them hoochies last night, that 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 b*tches break us
Last night was like a fantasy, some Alizé and Hennessy
A hoochie and her homie dirty dancin' with my man and me
Told her I was interested, picture all the sh*t we did
I got her hot and horny, all up on me, what a freaky b*tch
First you argued, then I fight it, 'til you lick me where I like it
Got a n*gga all excited, it don't matter, just don't bite it
I never got to check out the scene
Too busy tryin' to dig a hole in your jeans
Now it seems, it's check out time
[Chorus: Natasha Walker & 2Pac]
We gotta go (Gotta go, gotta go)
We gotta go (Yeah, baby, haha, it's check out time)
We gotta go (Gotta go, n*gga, gotta go)
We gotta go (Y'all know what time it is)
We gotta go (Ayy, come on, man, get y'all bags, man, call that valet motherf*cker)
We gotta go (Tell him to get a n*gga sh*t, 'cause we out this motherf*cker)

[Verse 2: Kurupt]
They label me an outlaw, so it's time for the panty raid
My fantasies came true with Janet on, I'm in a escapade
But 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 n*gga 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 in your room, instant massage, sip wines of all kinds
I ain't got that much time
So hurry up, and pop the Dom 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 Michael Jackson, and Beat It
One more thing I like to mention, I'm done and I'm out
Cause there's someone else who deserves my attention
So all the homies round up in the lobby
'Cause bustin' b*tches is a hobby, n*gga
It's check out time
[Chorus: Natasha Walker, Kurupt & Priest]
We gotta go (Ayo man, Pac, ayy, where the f— where the f*ck is Daz at, man?)
We gotta go (This n*gga locked up or somethin')
We gotta go (Don't even wanna leave)
We gotta go (Yo, man, it's check out time, it's time to get out this motherf*cker)
We gotta go (Ayy, you see them b*tches?)
We gotta go (We out, man, f*ck that sh*t)
We gotta go (Yo Priest)
We gotta go (Yo, n*gga, what's up? Where's Syke?)

[Verse 3: Big Syke]
Hey, I'm livin' the life of a boss playa
The front desk callin' but I'm checkin' 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 puttin' in work, but didn't hurt from the Jacuzzi to the bed
Carressin' your thoughts, 'cause I'm livin' fed, heard what I said?
Passion is crashin' the room
From the liquor we consumed I heard a boom
I'm blackin' out, you're yellin' 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 Cristal and I'm still tight
Out of sight from 'Pac and Kurupt
As I get it up, once the doors close, you stuck
In a heaty, sticky situation
Get up, baby, you ain't on vacation
It's check out time
[Chorus: Natasha Walker & Big Syke]
We gotta go, we gotta go
(Ayy, it's check out time)
We gotta go (Ayy, Pac, n*gga, where my motherf*ckin'—)
We gotta go (Where my shoes go, n*gga?)
We gotta go (Where my motherf*ckin' drawers and sh*t at, man?)
We gotta go (Man, y'all n*ggas was in here partyin' too f*ckin' much)
We gotta go (What the f*ck y'all doin', n*gga?)
We gotta go (Kurupt, go tell Daz, man, and Bogart and the rest of them n*ggas)
We gotta go (Kurupt, go tell Daz, man, and Bogart and the rest of them n*ggas)
We gotta go (Come on, man, n*ggas is trippin', man)
(Front desk all callin' me, tellin' me to get the hell outta here, man)
We gotta go (I ain't got no more money, somebody loan me a hundred)
We gotta go, we gotta go
We gotta go, we gotta go
We gotta go, we gotta go
We gotta go
Ooh, we gotta go
Ooh-we, hey
We, we gotta go
Hey, we gotta go
Hey, mhm, yeah, uh-huh