Words & Lyrics
I Wrote This Show
I wrote this show for my creamy nieces and nephews they’re growing up
I wrote this show for the black boys and girls who’ve had enough
I wrote this show for the activists looking for change
I wrote this show for my Asian sister’s who want to re arrange
Not just the furniture but smash down the walls
I wrote this show for my community, l wrote this show for y’all
Beat
I wrote this show for my mother and the million migrants who came
To bring up their families through the turmoil through the pain
Strange country, strange people, strangers, estranged
I wrote this show to fuel the fire
I wrote this show to fan the flame
In young hearts so full that they want to be on the stage
They want to make music, represent on the page
For Australians with mixed ethnicity
I wrote this show for you and l wrote this show for me
For South Africans once called “Coloured” those called other names too
It’s the first time this girl reflects, I wrote this show for you
And to the rest of the country this much is true
If this show is about me then this show is about you
This show is a confrontation
This show is a plea
Pause
We see what we are
We are what we see
Beat
Come walk a show in my shoes
Beat
I wrote this show for my emotions
Red hot and blue
I wrote this show for me and wrote this show for you
She Was Born In The Congo (Spoken Word)
SHE WAS BORN IN THE CONGO.
I was born in North Dandenong.
SHE WALKED THE FERTILE CRESCENT AND BUILT THE SPHINX.
I walked Burchall Grove to get musk sticks from the Milk Bar.
SHE DESIGNED A PYRAMID SO TOUGH THAT A STAR THAT ONLY GLOWS EVERY ONE HUNDRED YEARS CRAWLS INTO THE CENTRE GIVING DIVINE PERFECT LIGHT.
I created a fairy garden out of flower petals, cicada wings and aluminum foil in the Holy Eucharist adventure playground. We are bad.
HER OLDEST DAUGHTER IS NEFERTITI. THE TEARS FROM HER BIRTH PAIN CREATED THE NILE.
My older sisters are musicians, Busty Beatz, The Nastiest Female Beats Producer in the Southern Hemisphere (say whaaaat!!!!) And Via Tania, the loveliest Singer Song-Writer to traipse between Australia, France, Japan, Iceland and the States creating her own delicate style of “moon pop.”
Beat
Our tears are for our child-selves growing up with a mentally ill father at 24 Burchall Grove, North Dandenong.
SHE IS A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.
SHE GAZED ON THE FOREST AND BURNED OUT THE SAHARA DESERT WITH A PACKET OF GOAT’S MEAT AND A CHANGE OF CLOTHES SHE CROSSED IT IN TWO HOURS.
In 1989 on a trip to see my Grandmother, I gazed down Astor Rd in Kimberly South Africa. With 2 bottles of freshly brewed ginger beer underneath each armpit, I sweated my sneakers through, navigated around three potholes and a hit a giant anthill, before crossing it and delivering the bottles to my Great Auntie Joyce’s back stoop.
Pause
The whole trip to took me two minutes flat!
SHE IS A GAZELLE SO SWIFT, SO SWIFT- YOU CAN’T CATCH HER.
I have bad memories of sports day at Primary School; I never did well in running races. I remember standing at the starting line and imagining myself winning the race and everyone being like really shocked that such a chubby kid was such a fast runner. But as usual some athletic skinny kid called Julia or Sarah Gurry would win and l would have to make myself feel better by starring at my “best drawer in the class” award; which l kept in the side pocket of my back pack… for those sort of … deflating occasions.
THE HAIR FROM HER HEAD THINNED AND GOLD WAS LAID ACROSS THREE CONTINENTS.
My mother straightened my hair from the time l was 6 to about 18. It was the done thing in South African culture- and it still is. At 19 l decided to shave my head to see what would happen.
Pause
I’ve only known the true nature of my hair for about 12 years now, I did relapse once or twice, for a cousins wedding and a Latino role when l was in 2nd year at drama school, but other than I live in harmony with my frizz.
Beat
Accepting your natural self and shaking off the racist bullshit about what is beautiful and acceptable and beautiful- now that is gold!
SHE IS SO PERFECT, SO DIVINE, SO ETHEREAL, SO SURREAL, SHE CANNOT BE COMPREHENDED, EXCEPT, BY HER PERMISSION. I MEAN SHE CAN FLY, LIKE A BIRD IN THE SKY.
I want to be a part of the mythology of my country, Australia.
Thank-you.
Tale Of A Brown Girl
Intro
She’s a brown girl….. She’s a brown girl….
She’s a brown girl….. She’s a brown girl…..
Chorus
She’s a brown girl and she’s come this far
And you know she’s been dreaming everyday
She can rely on her big thighs brother
She can get by on her own steam mama
It’s a bitch girl, but she’s come this far
And you know it don’t matter what they say
She got the eye and the bootay brother
Cannot deny she’s a hot brown mama
Verse 1
This is the tale of a brown girl with big dreams
Big heart, big thighs, and big themes
Big emotions, big love, big sneakers, big style
Big booty, big hair and a mighty big smile
Tested and challenged by the big industry
Making this girl small y’all seriously
Three years to get in- three years to get out
Three years to get over and define my route
Three decades and six more at least to come
With a figure like a trigger and a bum like a drum
I’m stepping up to the plate, and not a second too late
Becoz this big brown girl is addressing the State
Yo haters listen up cos this bit is for you
I was bitchin’ for so long but now my bitchin’ is through
I’m part of the solution, bringing light to the dark
As l put it all together- l pull it all a part
Maximum exposure I’m here to be seen
This is the tale of a brown girl with big dreams
Chorus
She’s a brown girl and she’s come this far
And you know she’s been dreaming everyday
She can rely on her big thighs brother
She can get by on her own steam mama
It’s a bitch girl, but she’s come this far
And you know it don’t matter what they say
She got the eye and the bootay brother
Cannot deny she’s a hot brown mama
Verse 2
I grew up in the suburbs, walked the cul de sac
Redefined the streets with a pack on my back
Off to primary school the one my Mama taught at
Home time, in front of the TV l sat
Watching Hey Hey and Young Talent Time
Dreaming of the day when Chutchy would be mine
Pretending to be Sally from Home and Away
“Mum when there be a brown girl in Summer Bay?”
I rocked dance class, grade one to four
Top hat, leotards and sequins galore
From duck, to an orphan, to sailor l morphed
No one ever thought they’d see a little brown dwarf
The teacher always placed me somewhere up the back
I was the only one in my class who was black
In my mind l was dancing at the front of the stage
I was acting out my passion, my joy and my rage
You couldn’t get me down, talk about self-esteem
This is the tale of a brown girl with big dreams.
Chorus
She’s a brown girl and she’s come this far
And you know she’s been dreaming everyday
She can rely on her big thighs brother
She can get by on her own steam mama
It’s a bitch girl, but she’s come this far
And you know it don’t matter what they say
She got the eye and the bootay brother
Cannot deny she’s a hot brown mama
Outro
Growing up a mix of so many different pieces
Following the stitching, admiring the creases
Rising above the everyday bigotry
Using the stage to set my soul free
A coloured girls story; thoughts, fears and themes
This is the tale of a brown girl with big dreams
Candy B’s Family History (Hip Hop Track/ Sketch.)
Intro:
Welcome class it’s time to get giggy
101 Candy B’s Family History
Everybody in the house, ETHNICITY
Audience:
ETHNICITY (or not…. generally the crowd won’t get it the first time!)
Candy B:
Okay so… that was terrible! This is hip hop theatre- get it together class.
So when l say ETHNICITY I need y’all to say ETHNICITY
So lets try that again- Everybody in the house: ETHNICITY
Audience:
ETHNICITY
Candy B:
ETHNICITY
Audience:
ETHNICITY
Candy B:
ETHNICITY
Audience:
ETHNICITY
Candy B:
Now clap your hands every body
Everybody come on clap your hands, come on, come on
Clap your hands every body,
Everybody come on clap your hands
Candy B:
Excellent, I was worried there for a moment
Now when l say CANDY B’s y’all say FAMILY HISTORY
Candy B:
CANDY B’s
Audience:
FAMILY HISTORY
Candy B:
CANDY B’s
Audience:
FAMILY HISTORY
Candy B:
CANDY B’s
Audience:
FAMILY HISTORY
Candy B:
CANDY B’s
Audience:
FAMILY HISTORY
Candy B
Excellent, now we are ready for the real thing, don’t freak out a’ight, here we go.
Chorus:
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
Verse 1:
I am a fusion, different bodies in union
I want to have a baby even richer than me
I’m rich with flavour 1st generation Australian
Two sisters in my story one who lives across the sea
A Great Great Grandmother who was a princess in Java
Chinese and Malay in my Family tree,
Africans and Indians, People of South Africa
Coloured Mum and Dad combined to make me
Spoken:
So as it turns out although I’m often asked if l am Aboriginal, or Islander and (in the States) I’ve even had Native American Indian- l am in fact indigenous to no one place. I am a child of the migration and a product of Dutch Colonialism. My mother is mainly made up of Chinese Malay with some French Indian and a bit of German blood, my Father is a mix of English and African and to be frank, goodness knows what else. My ethnicity is the product of bi-racial people, and tri-racial and quai-racial people getting it on and making babies in South Africa! It’s rather absurd that a country with such an extraordinary combination of ethnicities and bloodlines enforced a system of segregation based on skin colour. Go figure? You ready for the Chorus class? Let’s do it-
Chorus:
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
Verse 2:
My Grandfather was a Speaker, Politician, Beacon, Leader
Party man the party preacher, tall and dark in every feature
The first “coloured” of the creatures taking oaths Parliament
Breaking ground, breaking hearts for the Labor government
He stepped up to the plate and he showed the state
He was willing to play ball and his ambition was so great
Won the seat, landslide, bought the ticket, board the ride
Time to break it open wide, time to speak Apartheid
Spoken:
So interesting thing here, my mother’s maiden name is actually LEONG and my Grandfather (who’s name was Sonny) took off the G in order to sound less “Asian.” Apparently it was difficult to rise up through the ranks of the South African Army if you had an “Asian” sounding surname. So Sonny Leong became Sonny Leon…. here we go-
Chorus:
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
Verse 3:
Politics, Dignity, Grandeur, Pomp, Majesty
Sonny Leon’s legacy, a part of my history
Working on the inside, building on the brown pride
Colour conscious homicide genocide apartheid
Corner of a tapestry, cough in a cacophony
A tall, strong memory, what my Papa meant to me
A re-eee reva revolutionary, ree-ee-ee reva revolutionary
One of the people, who helped to set Mandela free
Spoken:
My mum thinks l am the most like my Grandfather (who we call Papa) out of all of the grandchildren. One of my favourite stories of Papa’s time in office (which was in the early 70’s) was when he went on a world tour and had a public argument with Eartha Kit, apparently she was still playing to segregated audiences. On this tour he also agitated for the release of Nelson Mandela. Papa died in 1991, 3 years before Mandela was set free. My sisters and l grew up singing about Nelson Mandela before we even knew who he was or what he stood for:
Sisters:
Freeeeee Nelson Mandela/ Freeeeee Nelson Mandela/ Freeeeee Nelson Mandela
Chorus:
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
CANDY B’s FAMILY HISTORY
Outro:
So that a wrap class, you get the story
My family history in all its glory
From Africa to Australia we come
Asia and India, this class is done
Blasian
Chorus:
Mix Mix That Girl Is Blasian
Part Black, Part Asian
Part Everything Even Caucasian
Mix Mix That Girl Is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Verse 1a:
South African- Chinese Malaysian.
What’s that, that chik’s Australian?
One part illegal alien
Mix it up that girl is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Verse 2a:
BL Asian, Black and Asian
Born down under, Australasian
“Black people aren’t from around here!
What migration? Don’t come around here!
What situation? Girl we don’t care!”
Kiss my, kiss my, kiss my kiss my – rear!
MY BLASIAN BOOTY
MY BLASIAN- BLASIAN- BLASIAN BOOTY
MY BLASIAN BOOTY
MY BLASIAN- BLASIAN- BLASIAN BOOTY
Dance- Break
Verse 3a:
Asians beauties in the movies
Black ladies on TV
Radio’s playing
Blasian MCee’s
Mix- mix- mix that ethnic-ethnicity
Your favourite rapper is a girl called Candy B
Who’s she?
Chorus:
Mix Mix That Girl Is Blasian
Part Black, Part Asian
Part Everything Even Caucasian
Mix Mix That Girl Is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Verse 1b
South African- Chinese Malaysian.
What’s that, that chik’s Australian?
One part illegal alien
Mix it up that girl is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla-Bla
That Girl Is Blasian
Verse 2b:
BL Asian, Black and Asian
Born down under, Australasian
“Asian people aren’t from around here!
What migration? Don’t come around here!
What situation? Girl we don’t care!”
Kiss my, kiss my, kiss my kiss my – rear!
MY BLASIAN BOOTY
MY BLASIAN- BLASIAN- BLASIAN BOOTY
MY BLASIAN BOOTY
MY BLASIAN- BLASIAN- BLASIAN BOOTY
Dance- Break
Verse 3b:
Africa in my bum
Asia in my eyes
Xhosa on my skin
Malaysia on my thighs
These beats play rhythms
And my body won’t stop
Hey Busty where you at?
We gotta let the BLA drop, here we go-
Outro:
BLA BLA BLA BLA BLA
BLA-BLA-BLA-BLA-BLA
BLA BLA BLA BLA BLA
BLA-BLA-BLA-BLA-BLA
X 4
CHUBBY CHUBBY CHUBBY CHUBBY CHUBBY THIGHS
CHUBBY CHUBBY CHUBBY CHUBBY CHUBBY THIGHS
X 2
BLASIAN MC- SAY WHAAAATTT!
I’m Gonna Be Famous
You got big dreams, fame costs.
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
I’m gonna be Famous- I’m gonna be Famous
I’m gonna be Famous- I’m gonna be Famous
I’m gonna be Famous- I’m gonna be Famous
I’m gonna be Famous- I’m gonna be Famous
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
Betty Botter bought a bit of bitter butter
If she put in her batter it would make her batter bitter
Betty Botter bought a bit of better butter
And that bit of butter made her batter better
The mouth the tongue the teeth and the lips
The mouth the tongue the teeth and the lips
The mouth the tongue the teeth and the lips
The mouth the tongue the teeth and the lips
I’m gonna be Famous
I love and I hate this
I’m gonna be Famous
I love and I hate this
A proper cup of coffee from a proper copper coffee pot
A proper cup of coffee from a proper copper coffee pot
Red leather, yellow leather
Red leather, yellow leather
Red leather, yellow leather
Red leather, yellow leather
Break down
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
hiss hiss hum hum breathe out
A proper cup of coffee from a proper copper coffee pot
A proper cup of coffee from a proper copper coffee pot
Red leather, yellow leather
Red leather, yellow leather
Red leather, yellow leather
Red leather, yellow leather
I’m gonna be Famous
I’m gonna be Famous
I’m gonna be Famous
I’m gonna be Famous
And Then Her Fire Came Out
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Man fella l’m so hot,
Fuel to the fire, the prejudice is non stop
I’m burning alive and I need to scream and shout
This is the part where my fire comes out
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
South African mother born in the height
Invisible, voiceless unless you were white
I was born in Australia and still the fight
Who am I to speak? I’m the one with the light
The one who lives in this skin day and night
Excluded by colour this shit ain’t right
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
The obvious lack is actually racism
Without balance or culture, without timbre or rhythm
And sitting back is racist in a country like this
It’s not Apartheid but something’s a miss
No burning crosses but the slurs are the same
The oppression is constant but won’t hold the blame
You can’t see yourself, learn how to cope
Internalize the pain or pass round the dope
2 bars of fire
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Where are my people- My people are being blocked
Tell the little brown girl to give up her dream
Lower her self-esteem as she silently scream
Well what if she won’t go quietly?
What if loud and righteous is her legacy?
Here to take her place in the mythology
Part of her conviction is to tell you what she sees
4 bars of fire
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My people are being blocked
My anger is vital, my temperature is hot
Where are my people- my people are being blocked
Lynn on the Mic’ (Monologue)
When Candice got into NIDA all of Kimberly in South Africa and half of Western Sydney knew about it. Candy Bowers, a girl from Campbelltown (a known disadvantaged area), a South African girl with a bum to match had made it, it was an exciting time, to say the least. Not quite Barrack Obama level excitement, but it was close!
I started feeling a little unsure about NIDA when I realized that Candy was constantly being cast in the minority roles; she played strippers and prostitutes, “ethnic” mothers and exotics. And then there was her favourite – the role of the Maid in Cole Porter’s Kiss Me Kate, how she got through that time with her politics and heart intact l will never know. I’m sure her teacher’s meant no disrespect, but I’m also sure they could not comprehend how demeaning it would be for young women of colour, coming from where we came from, to play such a role.
Since then Candice has told me that most if not all of her Asian, Black and Brown-looking Actor-friends have experienced the same situation. They are now all excellent at representing poverty, prostitution and servitude. Shame man.
Beat
To the Hill Top Hoods I’d like to say this; the hard road is an understatement for what Aussie Artist’s of colour go through.
Pause
For the longest time I could not comprehend why my child was so hell bent on being a part of such a difficult industry. Difficult because of the competition involved, difficult because of the lack of money and difficult because of her difference. In the past I refused to believe that Australia was a racist country. I always advised Candy not to use colour as her centerpiece. My suggestion was to avoid it at all costs, her response, “Mother I can pretend I’m not big and brown all l want, but the industry will see my size and my colour first every time! Just turn on the TV and take a good look. Where is the diversity?” And I must say she has a point, there are really only one or two that spring to mind, Playschool and East West 101- still not so many household names though. Now, I could understand why A Country Practice was cast like it was, but All Saints- one mute brown orderly certainly didn’t make it Grays Anatomy! Now there’s talk of a new brown family on Neighbours- The Kapoors enter Ramsay street to a cavalcade of racism on the shows fan page. The general idea being was that it would be Un-Australian to have Indians on the show. Just like it! What street in Australia do these people they live on? A shift from the fictional single-story, dare I say white-Australian story, is long over due. The excuses for the lack diversity on our screen and stages are weak, No. 1:Australian Actors of Colour are not good enough, but the stars of Big Brother and Idol are? Those people cross over all the time, without an ounce of training to their name. Lets not pretend it is an issue of quality, good looks and a twinkle in the eye gets most on the TV, talent isn’t even a pre-requisite- unfortunately the color of one’s skin is. It’s simple, the discrimination is in the lack of opportunity, casting and roles for black Artists. The Logies have been a white wash for long enough; appearances by Humprey B Bear over the years being the only consistent representation of anything brown that I can recall.
Beat
The Arts has the capacity to lead, change and shift the cultural identity of a country. I want my grandchildren to feel included, to see their family reflected back at them. You cannot be what you cannot see.
I Wrote This Show (Part Two)
Chorus
I wrote this show for my creamy nieces they’re growing up
I wrote this show for the black boys and girls who’ve had enough
I wrote this show for the activists looking for change
I wrote this show for my Asian sister’s who want to re arrange
Not just the furniture but smash down the walls
I wrote this show for my community, l wrote this show for y’all
For my people, for my people, for my people,
For my people- people- people- people
Verse 1
I wrote this show for my mother and the migrants who came
To bring up their families, through turmoil through the pain
Strange country, strange people, strangers, estranged
I wrote this show to fuel the fire, I wrote this show to fan the flame
In young hearts so full that they want to be on the stage
They want to make music, represent on the page
For Australians with mixed ethnicity
I wrote this show for you and l wrote this show for me
For “Coloured” South Africans and others too-
First time I reflect, this show for you
For rest of the country, this much is true
If show is about me then this show is about you
It’s confrontation and I like that see
It’s confrontation and it confronts me
It’s confrontation it is a plea
We see what we are we are what we see
Walking my words and a show in my shoes.
I wrote this show for me I wrote this show for you
Chorus
- for my creamy nieces they’re growing up
- for the black boys and girls who’ve had enough
- for the activists looking for change
- for my sister’s to re arrange
- smash down the walls
- for my community, for y’all
- for my people, for my people, for my people,
- for my people- people- people- people
Verse 2
We see what we are we are what we see
I have a vision I have a dream
Multi-coloured stories on the stage and the screen
Faces and bodies, passions and themes
I see industry of colour, empowering the other brothers
Nurturing the creamy boys and promoting the brown Mama’s
Artists, Actors, Writers Rappers-, Lovers
I yearn for the rhythm’s no longer undercover
The Beats the Breaks the Notes the Tones
Is what I hunger, is what I hunger, is what I hunger,
The Beats the Breaks the Notes the Tones
Is what I hunger, is what I hunger, is what I hunger
The weight of a racist history holding us down
No heart, no soul, no sight, no sound
Around and around and around and around
Once we were lost but now we are found
Walking my words and a show in my shoes
I wrote this show for me I wrote this show for you
Chorus
- for my creamy nieces they’re growing up
- for the black boys and girls who’ve had enough
- for the activists looking for change
- for my sister’s to re arrange
- smash down the walls
-for my community, l wrote this show for y’all
- for my people, for my people, for my people,
- for my people- people- people- people
Verse 3
How about a show on the TV
Starring his, starring her, starring my family
Reflecting our Nation’s reality
Reflecting our true diversity
Y’ walked my words and a show in my shoes
I wrote this show for me and I wrote this show for you,
Who’s That Chik/ Fierce
WHO’S THAT CHIK?
WHO’S THAT CHIK?
WHO’S THAT CHIK?
WHO’S THAT CHIK?
Verse 1:
I am Candy B- Blasian MC
I come from Campbelltown
Outa-West family
I believe in Art, Music and Diversity
Harmony and searching for the Chi
Representing South Africa and the Lady MC
Representing Australia and the Lady MC
Representing Australasia and the Lady MC
Blasian MC- I’m Candy B- Whaaaat!
Dance Break- March
Verse 2:
That Chik is fierce
Curvy thighs like shears
Bottom line top gear
Tongue thit instills fear
Politics thit pierce
Got the gift and ear
Wanna get some?
I will kick your rear!
Eyes are hawk-like dark
She’ll attack your heart
Leave thick dark mark
Make you fall apart
From finish to start,
I will eat you up
I will eat you up
Like a Nenish tart
Chorus:
WHO’S THAT CHIK? WHO?
WHO’S THAT CHIK? THAT?
WHO’S THAT CHIK? CHIK?
WHO’S THAT CHIK? MIX MIX!
Verse 2:
This chik is breast, is thigh, is ass, is sigh, is hiss, is hum
This chik is bone, is brain, is bum, is love, is blood, is drum
This chik is full, is sore, is raw, is cool, is hurt, is won
This chik is force, is word, is source, is heard, is hot as the sun
This chik is all and every thought, yes every single one!
This chik is sight and what she’s seen, means that she’s come undone
Unlocked the Queen and the heat and now that pain is gone
Born to be great she takes her shape, this chik is No. 1
Spoken
I am fierce.
My tongue instills fear.
My presence is incredible,
I‘ve arrived, I’m here!
Check out my thighs,
They are curved like shears.
If you want to get into it,
I’m gonna kick your rear.
On your knees boy!
Chorus:
WHO’S THAT CHIK? WHO?
WHO’S THAT CHIK? THAT?
WHO’S THAT CHIK? CHIK?
WHO’S THAT CHIK? MIX MIX!
Candy B
Blasian MC- l’m Candy B- whaaaat!!!!
