| Geah… it’s magic… let’s get it
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| This is, vicious, bitches switches what I’m about
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| Lyrics is fire physics and niggas look out
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| The 45 blows kisses aimed for yo' mouth
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| You can’t deny 'em my wishes ambitions
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| Nigga naw never uh-uh am I fictitious
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| See I’m Eddie Murphy «Raw» no tight-ass riches
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| See these haters throw salt cause they superstitious
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| When it rains it pours yeah I know the sayin fella
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| So like Morton’s Salt, I brought an umbrella
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| That’ll turn any mad dog into an Old Yeller
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| I call him Magnum P.I. |
| like T-a-Tom Selleck
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| Nigga this is real life, youse a movie trailer
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| If this «The Matrix» I’m the glitch, got Tha Liks in this bitch
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| Styliztik’s got the bitches takin flicks
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| This that next level shit, good lookin E-Swift
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| I’m tryin to take a piss, get off my dick!
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| Roll it up, smoke it up, drink it up, throw it up
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| Do it all again 'til we all pass out
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| Roll it up, smoke it up, drink it up, throw it up
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| Do it all again 'til we all pass out
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| — Pop the bottle, 'til we all pass out
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| — Sip the skunk, 'til we all pass out
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| — Drink it up, 'til we all pass out
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| — Beat it up, 'til we all pass out
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| Yeah, uh… yo
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| J-Ro blow like artery with the West coast artistry
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| Devils wanna kill me but they don’t wanna martyr me
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| I spit philosophy with maximum velocity
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| Relaxin at the Oddysee I put it in the air, like apostrophes
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| I’m livin out the prophecy
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| Tha Liks will win the game like Monopoly
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| Anything less is atrocity
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| Cats get killed but not from curiosity
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| Got somethin to make 'em back off of me
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| Knick knack, paddy wack, give a dog a drink
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| Fuck with me, I’ll have you earlin in the sink
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| I’m the type of nigga who be like, «Fuck yo' couch!»
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| While I roll up your kush and drink yo' Guinness Stout
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| Here’s a little mischief, Styliztik and Bishop
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| We too tight, we’ll make you go back home and switch up
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| You need a better show, I think you better let it go
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| It’s hardcore pimp but I got hustlin flows
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| It’s it money or the way CaTash ride on the beat
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| That got the bitches in the party feelin light on they feet
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| I take freaks and then I push 'em to the point of insanity
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| Cause I’ve been rockin mics since Prince was fuckin Vanity
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| Honk honk they bleepin out my cuss words
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| My kids never see they think I’m cleaner than the suburbs
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| Bustin is my life and you know I can’t quit it
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| I tried to pass the torch and Stylz lit a blunt with it
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| Trippin, Likwit, Bishop Lamont
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| All we hear around here is niggas bitchin a lot
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| I, show up or blow up cause my spot is wild
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| Put a hundred fuckin down on my homeboy…
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| Styliztik, Likwit, Alkaholiks anonymous
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| Trippin, pissin on all your city monuments
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| Hittin chicks from all the different continents
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| Gettin lifted, crime we call it condiments
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| Niggas that I’m with is young black and prominent
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| Gun packin dominant, we run with the obvious
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| Wolfpack rush, better run like you’re Donovan
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| Or niggas’ll crack your head like they tryin to cook omelettes
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| Dressed in all black, everybody look synonymous
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| Back of the Cadillac is all packed with my conglomerate
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| Automatic strap pack clack clack is not promisin
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| Sit back, relax, sip 'gnac without vomitin
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| Matter of fact, I rap and act like Solomon
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| The cat in the hat got a rash she swallowin
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| I’m an anamoly G and I solemnly swear to be free
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| Just skeez another on the breeze |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hangover , by - Tash. Song from the album Publicity Stunt, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп