Tha Alkaholiks

Tha Alkaholiks - Likwit Ridas lyrics

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 WhoRidas. Tha Alkaholiks (X8)
 Fo-sho shots get dropped and popped just like a picklock
 With the master key, but the master key be me
 I assign chop from hot, like a cold on a stove
 And commence to roll, like a tire
 A real rider will ride ya, like a stallion with a chair
 Any buster be cherbin', in the game that's embarrassin'
 And we came prepared because I'm round hoe
 On the down low
 And I hit the block with a 50 brown drama metal calico
 From the O to Mexico, we rip shows, gotta let them know
 How we flow, when we get the doe and roll a little harder
 So we smoke a hundered yarder, Bogard, who ridin' Marvin?
 No duckin' and dodgin', my niggas be ridin'
 But we be no gangstas, straight laced parlayers
 You stick around and watch my money lay ya
 And I know them haters, don't want to see you excel
 On the way to Bogel, but them busters always bumpin'
 They gun with a story to tell, fresh off the press
 Hittin' hard like a tech on the target
 Scratching "Just grab the mic, ? don't do it right."
 J-Ro rock the party till the needle start skippin'
 I'm trippin' like Pippen, long hour sippin'
 Uh, ? deep into books on my shelves
 I like them sexy ladies that can do for they damn selves
 What good is a beautiful dame, with a Royals Royce frame
 And a Volkswagen brain
 My style be kind of old, like gold
 But it's the reason why I still mold, C-notes in my bill fold
 I like my brew real cold, it's the Ro-gram you with me
 Swift won't you hit me, one time, fo the troubles in these rhymes
 Niggas do crimes and never make it past they primes
 My flows are numerous like East Valley murders
 Bustin' shit off like talk is cheap like Rally's burgers
 You know that cool niggero, riding on a metro
 With the Cold 4-0, I really don't like to permote guns
 But I got one, a pistol grip shot gun
 My other one weighs a ton, son, kid, loc, dog, whatever
 Fuckin' with the Likwit will get your head severed
 WhoRidas get it poppin' lik Buggalo shrimp, we got a perment job
 At rappin', we just attempt, and I
 Pimp the flow like Imp the Dimp
 And I run around 40's like my nigga Shawn Kemp, and I'm out
 This is how it goes down, check out he sound
 Westcoast underground, who is the tightest?
 The Liks and WhoRidas (X2)
 Trust no one, smash, with my family do or die
 When we ride on by cartel, street gangs by bail makes mail
 Won't stop, I sell, I need to proceed
 I can't cross what a nigga need with greed
 So I sit with Walley, and make my plan till dividens will end
 With this look, my grand one of a kind like a brick
 To buy some shit once find, and flip it twice
 But don't put a thang on hold we roll
 We stay on the road, I gtta make my fetti even if it's off the wall
 Gotta stay on the ball, my gift to gab, make a lotta cash
 Sit back in a lab and strike oil like an Arab
 For sheeze, I know my brown preeza, oh Jesus
 In my lifetime so many fans movin' hand to hand
 So many niggas ou there trying to be the man
 Like Neon Deion, got jacked like peons
 On the front line for the first time
 Hey, what's the big idea? Put that gun away Harry we have a deal.
 It's never too late to improve your barganing position.
 And to whom it my concern, it's Tash turn to burn
 Bored as fuck with the mic I snatch that shit from Howard Stern
 And host my own show
 Cause Tash is bout it bout when it's crowded
 I'm here to rock y'all niggas even though I'm Guinestouted
 So slide some oil to these stiff MC's
 While I get into this style that bones like M 3's
 Cause I'm here to clock cheese, my style is mega costly
 Even Oakland niggas ay "Tash is hella saucy" (What!)
 I stomp out the cop out, no ties or split deciesions
 The Hennessy is fuckin' with my vision
 But even half blind, I still find a rhyme to blow your mind
 That's why I walk around L.A. with more hoes than Ginuwine
 So jump in the saddle if y'all niggas wanna battle
 Cause I roll shake and rattle till your whole crew skidattle
 I'm posted to be chosen as the one to keep it pumpin'
 That's why you lookin' at me like "Tash is up to somethin'."
 I am though, I'm peepin' out the ladies on the wall
 That keep they self together with draweres that match they bras
 I feel 'em and I know them bitches feel me
 Cause I go by the name of (Catashtophy!)
 Hook (X2
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Loud Records


Released in: 1997

Language: English

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