| I’ll set the tone like a metronome
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| (Beat breaks to keep pace)
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| We paint the flow like a seascape
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| (On each take)
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| Passed out to each MCs and DJs
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| (In each state)
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| So hot we offer rebate
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| (For cheapskate)
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| I cut you down to 3/8th
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| (Small size)
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| And all lies
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| (While we do more stunts than the fall guy)
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| Take your seat court side
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| (Cause our games perfected)
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| Leave a microphone cord tie
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| (In place of a necklace)
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| Forget your aspirations of making a record
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| (Cause anything you set we’ll break in a second)
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| I’ll make sure that your tape is neglected, disrespected
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| (Slit your neck kid and leave it disconnected)
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| We hit your section, and when we bounce your chicks is pregnant
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| (Even bitches with fake tits and they lips injected)
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| Diss this record? |
| You niggas must be misdirected
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| (Let's just dead it, you spit for the cash, we get the credit)
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| Forget the edit
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| We only spit the street version
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| (We stay cursing and stay tight like teen virgins)
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| So who’s the most obscene person on this green Earth?
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| (That's me sir, a pervert looking underneath skirts)
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| With each verse I’m worse
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| (So research the birth)
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| Cause when these words disperse
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| (They try to reverse the curse)
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| So we work the nerves on purpose with rhymes
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| (Plus we stay off the hook every time we switch lines)
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| We’re The Odd Couple misfits, what’s fucking with this?
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| Sluts and bitches with fat butts and big tits
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| Too drunk in business, who loves to twist spliffs?
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| Double fisted and always up to mischief
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| I lace tracks on an ADAT
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| (Till the tape snaps)
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| Light the finish line after eight laps
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| (At a race track)
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| I hate wack rappers with gay raps
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| (It's payback)
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| So take a long pace back
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| (Or leave with your face flat)
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| Take that
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| You can’t beat The Odds
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| (The Couple spells trouble for ya measly squads)
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| And cheesy frauds
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| (You need to find a new racket)
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| Put you on our street team
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| (Rocking J and Lou jackets)
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| So who these wack kids?
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| (Some students in practice?)
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| You ain’t paid dues in this rap shit
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| (Now who’s on the black list?)
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| While you talk shit
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| We getting lifted like a fork lift
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| (Down the hatch another ounce of Jack)
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| Till we nauseous
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| (Forfeits and loses)
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| You’re an open mic drop out
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| (Authors who’s cautious)
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| Can’t spit it off the top now
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| (We get rid of those who cop out)
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| So hop out the exit
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| (The medics is present)
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| Cause we deaded your brethren
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| (So get your refreshments)
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| Heineken and Corona
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| (And ounce or two of Malibu)
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| Yo, you should mix that with soda
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| (I told ya, I like it no chaser, straight up)
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| Ayo wait up, I need a shape up 'fore you get way drunk
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| (But J-Love I wouldn’t drink enough to cut your face up)
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| Okay but don’t get too buzzed then fuck my fade up
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| (C'mon it’s gonna be a great cut like what we spitting now)
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| Alright than wake up, I’m the one that should be sitting down
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| «J-Love»
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| «Louis Logic»
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| «It's illogical but not in a sense»
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| «I'm somewhat of a loner but the bottles my friend»
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| «I like to get drunk»
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| «Double fisting a bottle of Becks and a Vodka and Schepps»
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| «Louis Logic»
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| «J-Love»
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| «Double fisted»
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| Why do you drink so much?
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| Well you see my structure craves and needs alcohol
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| Oooh
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| I’m alright. |
| My body is a drunk
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| Odd Couple baby
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| «Always getting tore the fuck down» — A Tribe Called Quest |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Double Fisted , by - Louis Logic. Song from the album Alcohol/Ism, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп