Lyrics Language: Scots Song writer/composer(s): Russell Jones, James Robinson, Marlon Williams, Eric Brooks, Rico Smith
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Tha AlkaholiksHip Hop Drunkies Lyrics:
What’s yo’ name? What’s yo’ name?
My name is, Ol Dirty Bastard and I’ma Alkaholik
Yeah, me too nigga [Unverified]
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 West side when I test glide
My drunken lyrical hand glider, nobody’s tighter
Than a ruff rap provider, with ninety ways to peel ya
So I know the three words sound familiar
(Tash will kill ya)
I filter out the weak every time 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
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, yous 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
The ro pimped the flow like a hoe
So I should rap on the mack rap hone
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
I feels it’s all about skills
The outcome’s unbelievable like Tyson Holy field
Your lyrics are loaners return em to they rightful owners
My style is wild, like g’s or the pistol's
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
I drink more Brewster's than punky
It’s the further adventures of the hip hop drunkies
You bitches are hoes
Put it in ya like my motherfuckin' hoe
Or in your butt hole, ear hole
Where ever the fuck it goes
You bitches are hoes
Put it in ya like my motherfuckin' hoe
Or in your butt hole, ear hole
Where ever the fuck it goes
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
Its the pack town 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
Step outta place, Tash will 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 when you hear the
(Make room, boom, boom)
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
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
Extra Da-Llama, bring ha, ha, ha
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
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 mega drunken, 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 humble
Tumble all your plots and all your plans
Ol Dirty’s in the house and that’s my motherfuckin' man
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?
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?
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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