| C’mon
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| Xzibit!
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| Yeah.
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| Ahh, ahh, E-Dub
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| It’s that millenium ridiculous flow, I never let go Niggaz gettin knocked out is part of my show
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| Let 'em know who they fuckin with yo, a rhyme wrangler
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| Tri-angular push-up the hillside strangler
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| Dangle a, nigga by the ankle off the balcony
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| Now let his punk ass go, look out below (BELOWWWW)
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| It’s a tale of two cities, come out when the sun go down
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| We officially not fuckin around
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| Stuck in the ground, fitted with a suit in a pine box
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| (hah!) with my fresh pressed khakis in a slingshot
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| So heatbox all day in a nigga face
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| and all you bitches see the dick that you shoulda ate
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| Call it what you wanna call it
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| I’m a fuckin Alkaholik
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| Bring it if you really want it Ain’t gotta put no extras on it!
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| Yo, I’m in the zone, and lyrically gone
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| Got the spot blown, BOOM! |
| Oklahoma
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| Watch the aroma, catch those who love me My underground dirty cats on dune buggies
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| I be the type to take your watch and flaunt it Kidnap T. Lewis and Jimmy Jam on it Yo, I bang a nigga head til his neck pop
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| Do a KRS-One to a «Black Cop»
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| X and E’s, out for cream
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| Get the money, while you stay broker than Al Bundy
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| Uhh, give it to y’all, in «Any Given Sunday»
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| With J. Foxx name the spot, make it hot
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| (I hate E so much right now!) Blow it down hooker bounce
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| come off the ropes like J. Snooka
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| (*X*: Two fly motherfuckers) You can’t fuck widdit
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| Backed by +Open Bar+, so y’all forget it J-McEnroe, cam smashin, party crashin
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| I eat MC’s like a ration
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| I’m sockin niggaz in they goatees
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| I leave you stiffer than that fool on my basketball trophies
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| I’m in the room with 10 G’s, countin ten G’s
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| cause we need a bag of weed (can you smell it?)
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| Now we need ten dimes, to blow on deez like wind chimes
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| Time to close the blinds cause you all in mines
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| I bought a bottle for the session, and did not share it Drink so much Captain Mo’all I need is a parrot
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| You took the Alkaholik challenge, and lost your balance
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| You underground, we under water drinkin liquid by the gallons
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| Slurred words, double vision, brain bustin, head rushin
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| Since I’m too drunk to walk, I rock a party on crutches
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| and still rush the roughest MC who wanna get it Forget it, it’s Likwit, Tha Liks and, Xzibit
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| Ca-Tash on the blast the final piece to the puzzle
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| I slap bitches on the ass I slap tits up out the muzzle
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| I shuffle with the microphone, bang rhymes consistant
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| You wack and I’m Ca-Tash and that’s the motherfuckin difference
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| For instance, «21 and Over"set your clocks back
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| (Tick tock tick tock) Still standin where the rocks at Two-thousand-one, we still young guns that’s +Restless+
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| (Thirty niggaz, sixty hoes) and that’s the motherfuckin guestlist! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Alcoholic , by - Tash. Song from the album Publicity Stunt, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп