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Текст песни Tha Alkaholiks - 21 and Over

Tha Alkaholiks - 21 and Over слова песни

Intro: Bartender and J-RoYo last call, last call, last call for alcohol!At two, you`re through!{J-Ro} Ay bartendah! Bartender!{Bart} Yo whassup man?{J-Ro} Ay man, man let me get a... rummmmm an coke{Bart} Yo man don`t you think you had a little bit too much to drink?{J-Ro} Ay just let me get one more man{Bart} Yo man I`m lookin out for you man, it`s your life{J-Ro} Man I`ll hop over this motherfucker and get my OWN damn drinkHey niggy, what time it is...Verse One: TashIt`s time to roll my sleeves, fuck a few MC`s upAnother rough cut, from the crew that won`t ease upThe Alkaholik click, AKA the forty downersFlips rhymes like Calvin flips fries and quarter poundersI never drink and drive cuz I might spill my drinkI failed the breathalizer so they took me to the clinkNiggaz earlin in the sink cause they can`t fade the CiscoI`m from the old school but I never rocked a discoLoops from the group that, likes to smack the bitchesTha Liks is hittin hookers like a gangsta hittin switchesFront, to the back, to the side, to the sideAnd make you dance with these bitches but, no electric slidinAnd I`m about to flip, but first I`m bout to sipOff the forty ounce of brew that I was savin for the tripBack to the lab cuz all I do is bang cutsThat`s why I hang around my group like a dick hang with nutsVerse Two: J-RoI push one two`s when niggaz step on my shoesOh you haven`t heard the news I`ve been giving fools bluesManhandling chumps that step up, just to keep my rep upI push my fist through your grillI never became a gangsta, thanks ta, my skillon the nine inches of steelYou ask me what the K`s for, they don`t mean nothin["K`s for the way my dee-jay`s kuttin" -- Schoolly D, P.S.K.]Chorus: Tash, groupLast call y`all {call y`all}Call y`all {call y`all}{Last call, for alcohol}Last call y`all {call y`all}Call y`all {call y`all}{Last call, for alcohol}[J-Ro] Yeah... word[Tash] Alkaholik style niggaVerse Three: E-SwiftUh, I be one of dem niggaz known to drink a gang of brewskisFloat like the wind, so all y`all can call me cool breezeCooler than my man Morris Day in the winterThe dope rhyme inventor, rockin shows at the centerSo pass the mic on the, down lowNow go grab a forty from the liquor sto`And you don`t stop {don`t stop} and you don`t quit {don`t quit}Unless you`re in the studio making wack shitChorus[J-Ro] Yeah... that nigga Squid is in the houseVerse Four: J-RoI got a forty-four Mag with the clip (with a clip)So MC`s watch your lip, cause I`m shootin from the hip ahhI rip like Oprah, in tight jeans doand splits a needle wrap a pair man because them shits is on the fritzIt`s crazy, a few MC`s amaze meWith this Alkie style of rock, Mr. Spock couldn`t phase meRhymin pays me, but I do it anywayMany say, AY, when it comes to rhymes you got plenty JI`m so cool I drink forty ounces of freonYou never see me on the stage with a peonWhen we on the microphone it`s like Jordan all aloneWe slam, competition, scram damnCan we get along? Nope.Switchblade to the throat to MC`s who ain`t dopeCall me J-Ro the clepto, cuz I`m stealing to the jawOf these half-baked rappers, trying to get rawVerse Five: TashSoul in my strut, muscle in my hustleIt`s just a little something for them punks that wanna bust they littleDef Jam Comedy, raps that make me crack up

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