Tha Alkaholiks (Tha Liks)

Tha Alkaholiks (Tha Liks) - Coast Ii Coast lyrics

Your rating:

From city to city, coast II coast
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 (We came, to rock, for everybody)
 From city to city, coast II coast
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 From city to city, coast II coast (all night y'all)
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 Verse One: Tash
 (From city to city, coast II coast)
 I make rappers see more stars than Space Ghost
 Cause my fiver I kick lyrics make em sound like [walkie talkies]
 So the poet cracks the Moet while they drink the Old Milwaukee
 Off the hook with (droppin visions) so the Leo of the trio
 (Without the sexy voice) scoops more hoes than Theo
 So I dedicate this rap to all my ghetto spokesmodels
 Dressin like y'all paid, redeemin Coke bottles
 So nod to the oddness as the story gets told
 While I burn these MC's like Rotisierrie Gold
 Cause you know the reputation of the L-I-K-Ses
 The crew that wets you with they beer until somebody undresses
 I bust my shit and peel! Grab my wheels of steel
 If y'all niggaz can't feel me than y'all niggaz ain't real
 I hit so hard the WBC
 Called to ask me could the champ come and train with me
 Cause my liquidatin flows transpose on niggaroles
 Individuals, close they eyes, cause I blurred they visuals
 And I'm about to be as large as Houdini in a minute
 (Now the party didn't start) Till the Liks walked in it
 Chorus:
 From city to city, coast II coast
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 All night y'all (city to city) all night y'all
 When the Liks is (coast II coast) in the house get hype y'all
 From city to city, coast II coast
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 All night y'all (city to city) all night y'all
 (from coast II coast) The Liks is in the house to make it right y'all
 Verse Two: J-Ro
 Yeah... check out my Ro-gram
 Since I was a kid I got darker
 I write rhymes so phat I need a marker
 My style gets bit like Peter Parker
 If imitation is the greatest form of flattery...
 ...punk don't flatter me
 I slam you like a pogue on my dog with no fleas and ticks
 Chicks love them light-skinned rap niggaz called the Liks
 Youse a wizard, with no tricks, the J-R-O got the spells
 You never even heard Rock the Bells
 My cash flows, like a bloody nose
 It stains all your clothes, and your pill-ows
 I come from the home of the Rodney King beatin
 Pacoma CA, Riff Rack is where I'm eatin
 Your style is like *do Do DOO* out of service
 The Liks walk in the jam the punk MC's be gettin nervous
 I never take falls, I got more balls than pre-hauls
 I flow without flaws to scrape all you sucka paws
 Never ever find the fool that stole my brew
 (I'ma do mean, terrible, nasty things to you)
 Don't lose me, I make a rude bwoy say excuse me
 If you choose the real shit you can't refuse me
 Ask your grandpap I bust the dandy rap
 I be posted in the bar like Andy Capp
 And I, could, just, go, all, the, way
 On Friday
 Interlude:
 Yo whassup baby!!!
 Yo wasn't that your nigga there performin?
 Nah nah that wasn't him
 Yo it was mad niggaz in that piece yo
 What? What was they mad about?
 ...Yo kid
 Kid?!! I'm old enough to be your uncle, heh
 Anyway, where the BUD at?
 Sorry we do not drink!
 What the hell you talkin bout we don't drink
 I mean the chronic
 Oh you wanna smoke a L or sumthin?
 An L? Fuck is that?
 Man, word
 Nathin
 Who the fuck is Nate, tell him
 It's Iesha, Farrah, and Kath true...
 Chorus:
 From city to city, coast II coast
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 And there's so many niggaz on the planet left to rock yo
 don't be surprised when we rappin on your block
 From city to city, coast II coast
 Friday night is the night they like to party the most
 To all the hoses and all the third-leggers
 We comin old school like biscuits and Kreggers
 Verse Three: J-Ro, E-Swift, Tash
 Yo, first they didn't know me now the hoes be on my Moby
 But I'm just a nigga kickin me shit like Reggie Roby
 My name ain't Toby call me J-to the
 Talk on my cellular telly got a belly like Buddah
 I ain't Barry Gordy's son but I Rock(s)well
 When I eat Jamaican food I get the ox tail
 Get in the bushes with your punk style, you bore us
 I should kick my foot through your windshield like Chuck Norris
 I jump out the bushes and ambush your crew
 Push you and moosh you like a bitch, what you wanna do
 It's round two nigga I'm showin no love
 It's like a heavyweight match, but without the gloves
 You just can't rock a show, you're too quick to fatigue
 I think you ain't busy since Red was in seas
 You need to put a little more thought into your writin
 Your style is Virginia Slim, while mine is Phillie tightened
 So stop biting what your mouth can't chew
 A nova eat you but my DJ flow better than you
 But when I go to set it call the closest paramedic
 Cause you faker than that motherfuckin jewelry that's cosmetic
 So hold on to your seats while I rock these beats
 Cause these are just the repeats of our amazing feats
 Cause even Kurtis Blow knows we break beats like world records
 So my style'll hurt you worser than a cut that's infected
 And we O... W... T
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found