Hip Hop Drunkies Lyrics

Hip Hop Drunkies lyrics

Tash]  What's yo' name? 

 	What's yo' naaaaaame? 

 [ODB]	*burp* My name is, Ol Dirty Bastard... and I'ma Alkaholik 

 [Tash]  Yeah me too nigga 

 [ODB]	*singin some crazy shit* 

  

 [Tash] 

 You're now rockin with Tha Liks so start reachin for the ozone 

 I see some girls I know but y'all look different with your clothes on 

 What's up though, Tash came to steal it like the Grinch 

 While I'm leavin niggaz puzzled like I said my shit in French 

 But it's all Olde English that I'm bringin from beneath 

 Try to bite my style on wax and watch these lyrics crack your teeth 

 Cause I make words Connect like Westside when I test glide 

 my drunken lyrical hanglider, nobody's tighter 

 than a ruff rap provider, with ninety ways to peel ya 

 So I know the three words (Tash'll kill ya) sound familiar 

 I filter out the weak everytime I speak 

 I drink to hit the peak to make my mind go (beep) 

 I'm def-da-fyin, you rappin like my client 

 Tryin to scrape me for the style that slam harder than Kobe Bryant 

 BE QUIET!  This is Likwidation from the West 

 Motherfuck ya boozy show, I got my own special guest 

  

 [Ol Dirty Bastard] 

 Yo, yo, breaker breaker breaker one-nine 

 I bust this bitch in the behind with the silver shine 

 Cause she thought she was fine 

 She winked at me, I thought it was fine 

 This nigga poutin, this hoe was mine 

 I had the alcohol in me, took my time 

 Let a nigga ro-tate turn on the table 

 Put in the diamond needle, pull it to your ego 

 What?  You the king in the chair on my ground 

 The Tyson of sound, it's twenty seconds to a round 

 Scavenger nigga, youse a shrimp, a full line of shit 

 my ear can't digest it 

 Stop drinkin all that motherfuckin water, let's take it to the land 

 So I can Godzilla up your sheeit, Mr. Tiny Tim man 

 Niggaz be creepin up my beanstalk 

 When I start to come down on your fuckin asses 

 Try to chip shit on up, get these nuts 

 Motherfucker WHAT!! 

  

 [J-Ro] 

 The Ro pimped the flow like a hoe, so I should rap on the mack-raphone 

 My rhymes hittin hard enough to crack a bone 

 I divide square MC's like math 

 Bend you in half and drink a Genuine Draft 

 I stop him, then I skied out with all wampum 

 When he's layin on the ground, I let my Dog Scrilla chop him 

 (Switch reels) I feels its all about skills 

 The outcome's unbelievable like Tyson/Holyfield 

 Your lyrics are loaners return em to they rightful owners 

 My style is wild, like G's or the pistolas 

 No need to ask, I put you on like a ski mask 

 We can Fight the Power like this was P.E. class 

 I Bomb Squads like Hank Shock 

 Peace to my nigga Scott puttin stickers on the block 

 *burp* I drink more Brewsters than Punky 

 It's the further adventures of the hip-hop drunkies 

  

 	*chorus* 

 You bithces are hoes 

 Put it in ya like my motherfuckin hoe 

 or in your butthole/earhole 

 Whever the fuck it goes 

 (repeat 2X) 

  

 [Ol Dirty] 

 Yeah, yo, yo, yo 

 No disrespect to any architect 

 Who tried to perfect, oh what the heck 

 I'm a MC director, rhyme inspector 

 Rated top ten, Brooklyn borough sector 

  

 [J-Ro] 

 Its the Packtown original b-boy I'm rappin 

 What's happenin, so dope got the pope clappin 

 I'm smackin, on some chicken, what you kickin 

 You trickin, while I'm vickin hoes you stick your dick in 

  

 [Tash] 

 Step outta place, Tash'll smack your taste out your face 

 Cause there's nowhere to hide unless you move to outer space 

 Cause I waste motherfuckers like toxic fumes 

 So you betta (make room) when you hear the (boom boom) 

  

 [Ol Dirty (rapping like RZA)] 

 Hey sugar plum, how can you assume 

 That the pitch of the volume, doesn't have no tune 

 I'm not your everyday, regular rap star peddler 

 One on one at your rap seminar 

 Beware of the Hard Way, Three's the Hard Way 

 At you fuckers... 

  

 [J-Ro] 

 So aiyyo, my name is J-Ro 

 And my style is so dope they call it ya-yo 

 I don't rap fast, I love green grass 

 Nuttin nice on the mic, call me a mean ass 

  

 [Ol Dirty (still rapping like RZA)] 

 Extra da-llama, bring hahaha 

 Extra extra bring the da-llama 

 Verse a better one, then slice-a-versa 

 God acre, massacre murdered 

 Also known as a rap wrecka, not a rhyme rebel 

 You're just rhyme to survive streets 

 True beaters, minerals and rhymes survive lyrics 

 Like the acre without the attic, but not the only Asiatic 

 true God but my dick is my lightning rob 

 Hoe don't kick that mumbo jumbo... 

  

 [Tash] 

 See this the type of shit niggaz don't try at home 

 I come funkin up the spot like Micheal Jordan's cologne 

 With the megadrunken, style to keep the crowd pumpin 

 Niggaz lookin at me like, 'Tash is up to somethin' 

 (Get drunk and I stumbled) but I didn't come to trip  

 I came to bring it to ya humb-le 

 Tumb-le all your plots and all your plans 

 Ol Dirty's in the house and that's my motherfuckin man! 

  

 	*outro* 

 It's the Likwid crew 

 Comin through with Ol Dirty from the Wu 

 Passin your party, jettin out with allt he brew 

 So what y'all new, niggaz think you wanna do? 

 (repeat 2X