One Beer (Madlib Remix)

Lyrics

[Intro] I get no kick from champagne Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all So tell me, why should it be true? I get a kick out of brew [Verse] There's only one beer left Rappers screaming all in our ears like we're deaf Tempt me, do a number on a label Eat up all their MCs and drink 'em under the table "It's on me, put it on my tab, kid" However you get there – foot it, cab it, iron-horse it You're leavin' on your face, forfeit Accost the mic, hold it like the heat, he might toss it Told her tell him they stole it, he told her he lost it She told him, "Get off it," and a bunch of other more shit Gettin' money, D's be gettin no new leads It's like he eatin' watermelon, spittin' seed after seed It's the bleed, give me some of what he droopin' off Soon as he wake up, chokin' like it was whoopin' cough They group been soft First hour at the open bar and they troopin' off He went to go laugh and get some head by the side road She asked him autograph her derriere, read, "Too Wide Load,  This yard bird taste like fried toad turd Love, Villain." Take pride in code words Crooked eye mode, nerd, geek with a cold heart Probably still be speakin' in rhymes as a old fart Study 'How To Eat To Die' by the pizza guy And he's not too fly to skeet in a skeezer eye And squeeze her thigh, maybe give her curves a feel The same way she feel him when he flow with nerves of steel They call the Super when they need some black... uhh... plumbing fixed "How it's only one left? The pack come in 6 Whatever happened to 2 and 3?" A herb tried to slide with 4 and 5 and got caught like, "What you doing, G?!" Don't make him have to get cuttin' like truancy "Matter fact, not for nothin' – right now, you and me!" Looser than a pair of Adidas I hope you brought your spare tweeters MCs sound like cheerleaders Rappin' and dancin' like Redhead Kingpin DOOM came do the thing again, no matter who be blingin' He do it for the smelly hubbies Seeds know what time is it like it's time for Teletubbies Few got it, and even fewer can sell it Take it from your man who wear a mask like a 'tarded helmet He plot shows like robberies "In and out, one, two, three—no bodies, please Run the cash and ya won't get a wet sweatshirt" Mic the shotty – nobody move, nobody get hurt Bring heat like the boy done gone to war He came in the door, and "Everybody on the floor!" A whole string of jobs, like we on tour E'ery night on the score, comin' to your corner store