Bar Code

The drunken funk’n has returned
Let’s take it back to the old school one time y’all, uhh
Ya fuckin with me? Damn right y’all fuck with us boy
(Shotglass, ha! Ain’t it drunk) Alkaholiks, say what?
(Yo Tash, smack these niggaz up!)

With my Alkaholik style still comin of age
Free as a bird the beer fly on stage
Ain’t here for no frontin just to say a lil’ somethin
A nigga like CaTash’ll get this motherfucker pumpin
I walk with a bop that make the cops shine flashlights
And I ain’t drunk shit, I’m still faded from last night
That’s right y’all, the Alkahol be spittin
Comin through bitches..

I drink a lot of ale, smoke a lot of L’s a day
Got kegs in my room and bales of hay
Twenty-five roaches piled in my ashtray
Some like it slow some live the fast way
All the ladies know I’m wild and nas-tay
I live the "Rap Life" like my nigga Tash say
I down the whole brew, never half way
I’m back and forth to the bar in the Likwid Cafe

[Chorus 2X: Tha Liks]
Now put yo’ bottles to yo’ lips
When I sip, you sip, we sip – altogether now
Back, and, forth – to the bar y’all
Back, and, forth – to the bar y’all

They say one man’s trash is the next man’s treasure
Next man pain be the other man’s pleasure
Whatever you wanna drink ma we bought the bar out
Last cats to call out, who wan’ fall out?
Worst case scenario walkin, I hate talkin
Do the damn thing, let your dogs start barkin
Embracin the bass (yeah) who keep you laced
with Henessey to the face, tequila with no chaser
Liks – bang kicks, kick dirt on tricks
Fuckin smoked out rappers y’all fiend for hits
I just – drop my shit, never stop servin
Everything bump even the two-way versions
I’m the West coast Julius Earving, been through the worst
Survived starvin to death and dyin of thirst
Come through, bring a homegirl, double the fun bitch
Cause two heads is better than one, so let’s go


So if Tash die tonight, rap music don’t owe me shit
I done did it all homey off blood sweat and spit (yes)
Spit-zophrenic off about a half a gallon
of that strong shit that make me think Bucks like Ray Allen
Profilin in the beat-up ass bucket like fuck it
Bitch I make this car look good
Knock on wood, knock on MC’s just for practice
Cause y’all niggaz can’t fuck with these drunken-ass tactics

We – stompin, rompin niggaz
with the bumpin rhymes that keep the b-boys jumpin
Sayin ho, ladies sayin ow
Get it now front row wipe that brew from your brow
Cristal and malt liquor go down the same pipe
You drink with us you probably piss in the bed the same night
You throwin up on your clothes no hoes fo’ sho’
Now you on your back pointin at the sky with your toes

[Chorus] – 2X as beat fades

Posted in Tha Alkaholiks.