Intro: Tash ("Yes yes y'all, and you don't stop" - repeat 12X) Hello Let me tell ya about the Liks See it *echoes* say it *echoes* Ah, yo Verse One: Tash I walked into a store I stepped straight to the freezer I grabbed some forty ounces and a few Bacardi Breezers I threw em on the counter then I went to find some chips I'm thinkin bout this bitch I'm bout to visit with the hips I asked the counter person for the biggest box of Trojans Cause when I be onthe pussy I cause nuclear explosions He put them in my bad, totalled up my sums He said, "That comes to thirteen dollars," but I didn't have no ones I gave him twenty, in walked some shorties Eyes beemin red headed straight for the forties Five foot three wannabe Tupac's They asked the man behind the counter for the Newport boxes They stole some cans cause the man couldn't see em Cause he busy tryin to tell em next time he'll ID em One was starin at me, then suddenly it hit him That's that nigga from the Liks let's crack the forties with him They gave me daps they said I freak my raps They said they homey got some flows and twist off the beer caps Halfway finished, I asked em what their ages Cause they lookin like, they barely out the puberty stages Fifteen, sixteen, one was too embarrased He said they started drinkin fuckin around and went to Terrace It wasn't long before the forties was gone So as I turned around I told my young niggaz to stay strong Because no matter how you scan it you're the future of the planet You don't wanna be a rapper cause it's drainin entertainin too much strainin on your brain, I told em they don't need it They hit me with a card and said, "Call us if you wanna gt weeded," yeah sixteen years old Hangin out drinkin forties in the East Columbus cold As they jumped onto they bikes in the knee-high snow They all turned around and said, "You ain't shit Rico!" Chorus: J-Ro, Tash Can I send this out once, for my niggaz smokin blunts Twice, for my niggaz rollin dice Three times, for my niggaz bust the rhymes So they don't do crimes to make it through the hard times As we send it out once, for my niggaz smokin blunts Twice, for my niggaz rollin dice When the Liks is in the house we let you know like yo! If you hit me with a forty black I hit you with a flow Verse Two: J-Ro It was a Friday night, house party goin on At my homies house, from dusk til dawn Blunts in the air plus kegs of brew Some half naked-bitches gettin pushed in the pool (In the corner was the DJ, gettin nice Feelin that shit, off the Alehze and ice) I only had one mic, now imagin A gang of drunk MC's who wanna start rappin One grabbed the mic and held on too long ("...baby I'm on the mic, and I'm on the mic... *crowd boos* When I'm on the mic (Pass the mic god damn nigga) doin what I like, and when I'm on the mic...") Push came to shove *bang* now he's gone That's what happens when the liquor does your thinkin So keep this in mind when you're out there drinkin Chorus: Tash, J-Ro Outro: J-Ro, Tash And I'm out, time to get busy As we flow up out this piece I ain't even mad, I ain't even mad I ain't even mad at y'all It's the Alkaholiks... Yo yo, mic check one two one two Transmittin live through the headphones, you know how we do it low budget style For all MC's in the houe I know how you feel I know you feelin the vibe right about now Crackin the forty, sittin in the car, or at the club bobbin your head to this album But yo, we gonna give you, we gonna give you a second to catch wreck Go ahead, get your freestyle on and you don't have to be twenty-one rock that shit