| My favourite hobby is drinking alcohol
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| But if y’all goin to the club I ain’t goin out with y’all
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| I ain’t tryin' to get nicely dressed
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| At the door tryin' to pass the am I cool enough test
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| Bitch I got my Vans on and they look like sneakers
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| And they won’t let my clique in cause we look like tweakers
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| They want twenty five fuckin' bucks
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| They ain’t even got a band and the dj fuckin' sucks
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| That techno gets old in a minuet
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| I’m tryin' to dance to shit that’s got soul in it
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| It’s the same beat all night kid
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| And even when I’m on extacy I still don’t like it
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| So take me to a place where I can drink like a savage
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| Where people are ugly and beer prices are average
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| I know I sound like an old man
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| But if y’all goin to the club I’m stayin' home fam
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| Cause I’ve been around for many long days
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| And ain’t nobody gone change my ways yeh
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| Hey mr. |
| Driver take me where that old jukebox plays
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| Now I ain’t talkin' all clubs but I’m talkin' bout a bunch
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| Tryin’a be the cool table up at high school lunch
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| Well if that shits cool you can call me a nerd
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| Marching band, Chess team that’s my word
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| I’d rather get held back at the door
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| When one beer is the price of a twelve pack at the store
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| And uh
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| I love it here in the home of the lakers
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| But it’s hollywood it’s a whole lotta fakers
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| And I would rather drink a whole lotta makers
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| And roll to the crib with a bowl or some papers
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| And sit back with the long neck spittin'
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| How do you think my songs get written
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| After that you can catch me at the local bar
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| Gettin' loud and obnoxious like my vocals are
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| I know I sound like an old man
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| But if y’all goin' to the club I’m stayin' home fam
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| Y’all still with me, y’all with me, y’all good?
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| That’s good man I know it’s early a lotta times
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| On early
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| People ain’t drunk yet
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| I know some of you fucking degenerates been drunk since noon
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| But we gonna start it off just to make sure y’all with me
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| Just to make sure we gone do a little participation shit
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| Somebody say yeeee
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| A say yeeeeheh
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| A say yeeeheh
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| A say yeeeheh
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| A say yeah
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| A say yeah
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| (Back To Business)
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| Alright we gonna do some rap shit
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| Uh
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| Eh yo
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| You can come and see me for the flow or the style
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| Either way I make the show worth your while
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| I’m the most versitle mother fucker you seen in your life
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| Musical swiss army knife
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| Son I rock mics, beats and fuckin' acoustics
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| Wax I make fire like the rubbin' of two sticks
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| Cats bring beef like the oven at Ruth’s Chris
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| But they don’t bring heat they just come with excuses
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| I stand tall other rappers should get stilts
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| Or better yet just stop rappin' and knit quilts
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| In the dome is the chronic
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| And I’m cooking MC’s like it’s home economics Biatch
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| And that’s a tasty cake
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| Sweetend up by all the flakes we bake
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| Motherfucker I while on stage like I’m Zac De La Rocha
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| And if you don’t like it get a cat into polka |