Hip Hop Drunkies (Rerecorded)

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Tash] You're now rockin' with Tha Liks so start reachin' for the ozone I see some girls I know but y'all look different with your clothes on What's up, though? Tash came to steal it like the Grinch While I'm leavin' niggas puzzled like I said my shit in French But it's all Olde English that I'm bringin' from beneath Try to bite my style on wax and watch these lyrics crack your teeth 'Cause I make words Connect like Westside when I test glide My drunken lyrical hang glider, nobody's tighter Than a rough rap provider, with ninety ways to peel ya So I know the three words (Tash'll kill ya) sound familiar I filter out the weak еvery time I speak I drink to hit thе peak to make my mind go (beep!) I'm death defyin', you rappin' like my client Tryna scrape me for the style that slam harder than Kobe Bryant Be quiet! This is Likwidation from the West Motherfuck your bougie show, I got my own special guest [Verse 2: J-Ro] The Ro pimped the flow like a ho So I should rap on a mack-rophone My rhymes hittin' hard enough to crack a bone I divide square MC's like math Bend you in half and drink a Genuine Draft I stomp 'em, then I skied out with all wampum When he's layin' on the ground, I let my dog Scrilla chomp him (Switch reels) I feels it's all about skills The outcome's unbelievable like Tyson/Holyfield Your lyrics are loaners, return 'em to they rightful owners My style is wild like G's, cholos or stoners No need to ask, I put you on like a ski mask We can Fight the Power like this was P.E. class I Bomb Squads like Hank Shock Peace to my nigga Scott puttin' stickers on the block *burp* I drink more Brewsters than Punky It's the further adventures of the Hip Hop drunkies It's the Packtown original b-boy, I'm rappin' What's happenin'? So dope, got the pope clappin' Smackin' on some chicken, what you kickin'? You trickin' while I'm vickin' hoes you stick your dick in [Verse 3: Tash] Step outta place, Tash'll smack your taste out your face 'Cause there's nowhere to hide unless you move to outer space 'Cause I waste motherfuckers like toxic fumes So you better make room when you hear the (boom, boom) [Verse 4: J-Ro] I said ayo, my name is J-Ro And my style is so dope they call it yayo I don't rap fast, I love green grass Nuttin' nice on the mic, call me a mean ass [Verse 5: Tash] See, this the type of shit niggas don't try at home I come funkin' up the spot like Michael Jordan's cologne With the mega drunken style to keep the crowd pumpin' Niggas lookin' at me like, "Tash is up to somethin'" But I didn't come to trip, I came to bring it to ya humble Crumble all your plots and all your plans Ol' Dirty's in the house and that's my motherfuckin' man