| … Fresh from a court runnin from a bar tab
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| Drivin drunk with car lag in need of a barf bag
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| I left my smart half on the hard path to recovery
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| With hangover hovering I took a bath in the bubbly
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| I woke up in the trash, cold clutchin a flask
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| With a wino askin for some from me, but there’s no stuff in my stash
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| I’m so stuck in a glass but insist on throwin Rollin Rocks
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| Shades drawn, doors closed and locked, hopin no one knocks
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| I’m in a lonely spot
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| Nowhere, and I want some some Stoli shots
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| Like I don’t care if my AA sponsor knows or not
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| I’ll spend a week soaked in scotch on Venice Beach with the vagrants
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| Then I’m… leavin for Vegas
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| But I’m penny free, and owe a lot of dough
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| To spot my landlord and old lady liks
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| It’s like I said, she likes to collect, she don’t babysit
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| «When I get bent, I must represent, no question»
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| I’m the lush president of the wino section
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| Since you find no lessons in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me
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| Tell you 'bout my only vice»
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| «When I get bent, I must represent, no question»
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| I been at war with lady liks and can’t find no weapons
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| Or find protection on my coldest nights, it’s like… «Shorty let me tell
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| You 'bout my only vice»
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| So basically, my drinkin schedule’s 8 to 3
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| But wait and see I bet you I can make the rate increase
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| Until I start sprayin my vomit on my Old Navy fleece
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| So sayeth the logic, so say the sheep
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| My next commandment, to drink a case a piece at least
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| To set the standard, a buncha drunks that’s dead from cancer
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| Leave your 12 steps abandoned on the way to the bar
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| A convoy that’s on joy juice racin their cars
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| Drinkin grain from a jar, that’s moonshine to the laymen in bars
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| And soon I’m hearin angels with harps
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| Perhaps it’s beepin horns and I’m crossin lanes in my car
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| And sleepin on the job but made it so far, I’m thinkin ain’t this bizarre
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| It’s kinda freezin', tryna find the reason
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| When I realized my gates were ajar
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| I took the Nestea plunge straight to the tar, but never jumped
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| Then I awoke in a pool of my puke where I had left my lunch
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| «When I get bent, I must represent, no question»
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| I’m the lush president of the wino section
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| Since you find no lessons in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me
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| Tell you 'bout my only vice»
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| «When I get bent, I must represent, no question»
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| I been at war with lady liks and can’t find no weapons
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| Or find protection on my coldest nights, it’s like… «Shorty let me tell
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| You 'bout my only vice»
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| I was born of beer kegs in college dorms and molotov mixtures
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| Fists up, breakin bottles off niggas
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| Make escape doin the hundred yard dash, comin from a car crash
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| That’s what I call a runnin bar tab, back to the lab
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| When an undercover car passed after my ass
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| Dropped to my knees and my hands in the grass
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| A straight shot to the trees beside my door, but I’d forgotten my keys
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| Plus I had too much brandy to last, so I hopped to my feet
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| My hands were both clasped stoppin the stream
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| If I puked the cop would probably see
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| But he was watchin me flee on wobbily feet, at least that’s what I’m thinkin
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| That’s when he tackled me stagnant and stinkin
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| I said, «No way occifer, I haven’t been drinkin»
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| Then he said, «You're under arrest kid, and we’re goin back to the precinct»
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| «When I get bent, I must represent, no question»
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| I’m the lush president of the wino section
|
| Since you find no lessons in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me
|
| Tell you 'bout my only vice»
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| «When I get bent, I must represent, no question»
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| I been at war with lady liks and can’t find no weapons
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| Or find protection in this lonely life, it’s like… «Shorty let me tell you
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| 'bout my only vice» |