This is a hauntingly beautiful song about introspection, specifically about looking back at a relationship that started bad and ended so poorly, that the narrator wants to go back to the very beginning and tell himself to not even travel down that road. I believe that the relationship started poorly because of the lines:
"Take me back to the night we met:When the night was full of terrors: And your eyes were filled with tears: When you had not touched me yet"
So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
"I had all and then most of you"
Like many relationships that turn sour, it was not a quick decline, but a gradual one where the narrator and their partner fall out of love and gradually grow apart
"Some and now none of you"
Losing someone who was once everything in your world, who you could confide in, tell your secrets to, share all the most intimate parts of your life, to being strangers with that person is probably one of the most painful experiences a person can go through. So Painful, the narrator wants to go back in time and tell himself to not even pursue the relationship.
This was the perfect song for "13 Reasons Why"
Bricki-di-roaw!
Steppin' out; the crowd throwin' bolos
Flicki-di-flame, owh!
When chrome forty-fours
Loadin' it up, packin' it back; ready to splash for real
Spit flows out the gail
God tried to bail
It's hectic
4-5-6, gimme ya grips
That's more dollars in them tongues
In them go-go chicks
Bitch, I'm drunk, pumpin' slugs out of cannon
Shot ya after-party down with Meth and Red in
Check it, Bricks and Shaolin, no joke!
And when I hit the pussy, call me Daddy Long Stroke
Or Ana, I'm hittin' pigeons out in Atlanta
Banana-split, hot to spit!
Oh shit!
Spickin' ya, rippin' ya four or ya funds
I wet ya like a one forty-one watergunz
Cocky like Rocky; got ya scared to death!
So hold on, ya bitches, 'cause here come Red-Meth!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Fuck with me and Meth, and we break ya fuckin' neck
Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Okay, the 'hey hey' baby
Me and Doc about to blow
My Saturday night's so special
And they pointin' at yo' nose
Aiyyo, save the speculations and the rumours
Comin' sooner then you think
I knock a phat bitch outta bloomers
Givin' tumors, hardcore
Givin' it to 'em raw
Landshark, southpaw, so kids say I jap-a-jaw
One-two, no ending or beginning to my cipher
I'm winning; tell the news like Peter
Depending on any givin' day I'm representin'
The struggle; my great grand who lived through the linchin'
Oh yes, y'all, if you got the weed, who got the blunts?
Take a guess, y'all
Kool-Aid bustin' through the wall
Mr. Meth y'all
Hah-chu! Comment allez-vous
I used to hawk chickens; now I'm maxin' with Badu
I represent Wu
My uzi weighs a ton
I'm swingin' a track from Staten
'Cause that is where I'm from
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Fuck with me and Meth, and we break ya fuckin' neck
Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Steppin' out; the crowd throwin' bolos
Flicki-di-flame, owh!
When chrome forty-fours
Loadin' it up, packin' it back; ready to splash for real
Spit flows out the gail
God tried to bail
It's hectic
4-5-6, gimme ya grips
That's more dollars in them tongues
In them go-go chicks
Bitch, I'm drunk, pumpin' slugs out of cannon
Shot ya after-party down with Meth and Red in
Check it, Bricks and Shaolin, no joke!
And when I hit the pussy, call me Daddy Long Stroke
Or Ana, I'm hittin' pigeons out in Atlanta
Banana-split, hot to spit!
Oh shit!
Spickin' ya, rippin' ya four or ya funds
I wet ya like a one forty-one watergunz
Cocky like Rocky; got ya scared to death!
So hold on, ya bitches, 'cause here come Red-Meth!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Fuck with me and Meth, and we break ya fuckin' neck
Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Okay, the 'hey hey' baby
Me and Doc about to blow
My Saturday night's so special
And they pointin' at yo' nose
Aiyyo, save the speculations and the rumours
Comin' sooner then you think
I knock a phat bitch outta bloomers
Givin' tumors, hardcore
Givin' it to 'em raw
Landshark, southpaw, so kids say I jap-a-jaw
One-two, no ending or beginning to my cipher
I'm winning; tell the news like Peter
Depending on any givin' day I'm representin'
The struggle; my great grand who lived through the linchin'
Oh yes, y'all, if you got the weed, who got the blunts?
Take a guess, y'all
Kool-Aid bustin' through the wall
Mr. Meth y'all
Hah-chu! Comment allez-vous
I used to hawk chickens; now I'm maxin' with Badu
I represent Wu
My uzi weighs a ton
I'm swingin' a track from Staten
'Cause that is where I'm from
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Fuck with me and Meth, and we break ya fuckin' neck
Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka! Rememba these?
Microphone-check, mirco-microphone checka!
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Cheka Lyrics as written by Andre G Weston William D Hines
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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