Pass Out

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Tha Alkaholiks

Tha Alkaholiks, also known as Tha Liks, was an American hip hop group from Los Angeles, California. Since the early 1990s they have produced funky, upbeat, hedonism-themed party music with a hardcore hip hop edge, powered by the beats of DJ and producer E-Swift (born Eric Brooks in Columbus, Georgia, raised in Toledo, Ohio) and the lively, comedic rhymes of J-Ro (born James Robinson in Los Angeles) and Tash (born Rico Smith in Cincinnati). Though commercial crossover success largely eluded the group, they maintained a dedicated following on their native West Coast, throughout the United States and worldwide. more »


Year:
1997
106 Views
Playlists:
#1

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Ahh! y'all niggaz finally came back with the beers! 
We're the Alkaholiks in the house! 
Slow ass niggaz! 
Hey let's pass out some of this brew James 
Better have some forties and tall cans and shit 
James let's pass some of this brew out, check it out, yo 
One for you, one for you 
One for you, one for you 
A few for your crew, and this one's for you 
One for you, but this here is my brew 

It's the beer drinkin', breath stinkin' sniffin' money 
I throw my hands up and say, "It's good" like Gene Tunny 
Come here pull my finger, so I can let the funk flow 
E-Swift the funk bro, beats to make the trunk roll 

Welcome to the house the one-times can't raid 
Where I grab the mic trippin' like my weed was sprayed 
So to try to take what's mine you better be the smoothest criminality 
'Cause I'm deadly to the point I had to warn the Surgeon General 

So let the women know, they call Captain Slave-a-Hoe 
Or J to the Ro, from Tha Likwit crew beer roll 
And speakin' of crews, yo whose next to lose 
Instead of five mics, I'd rather have five brews 

And if y'all niggaz peeped the news you saw the weatherman predictin'
The rain was on the way because you know who brings Tha Likwit 
The nigga risked it, rap exquisite down for housing 
'Cause I'm tryin' to keep it pumpin' til the year two thousand 

And fourteen, we'll still be holdin' down the scene 
Comin' fresh every time like peas from Jolly Green 
Every time we rock a show we send the crowd to detoxes 
Tha Liks bring the flicks that kicks like six oxes 

And I be rockin' niggaz boxers like I'm DJ "Run" 
So men and women rush my music like it's CK One 
So of course I got it locked even my whackest two bitches 
Look flyer than the hyenas and the low-rider bitches 

And we left you all in stitches now we back like early morn 
We comin' back out on that shit like creamed corn 
With that Likwit funk, won't stop until you say uhh 
I save a brew for you, fool, only when I'm drunk 

So what you sayin' punk, even with a shipment of equipment 
You still couldn't rock it 'cause you don't be comin' different 
So that bruisin' you was cruisin' for has just arrived 
With the Olde English crack just to make it live 

One for you, one for you 
One for you, one for you 
A few for your crew, and this one's for you 
Damn we runnin' out of brew 
Now what we gonna do? 
Three drunk motherfuckers goin' round the outside 
Round the outside, round the outside 
Three drunk motherfuckers goin' round the outside 
(So dosey do your partner!) 
 
Can you feel it? Yeah
If you didn't have it would you steal it? Hell yeah
Well it's yours! 
My rap skills are black like burnt hills 
On the reals, I make the coldest nigga catch the chills 
Like the Buffalo Bills, you had your chances (that's right) 
Pack your pots and pans, and fly your ass back to Kansas 
I should Diss You, whack rhymes are the issue 
I come up with hooks that'll pull out your tissue 
Like Tito, white kids think I'm neato 
I chop emcees up and throw em in my burrito 
What? Never interrupt me when I'm speakin' 
Just sit your ass down and say, "We all" like a Deacon 
F*ck the trendy clothes I want the bankrolls 
Your style is funny like hoes with big butts and skinny ankles 
 
And havin' shoes or where their coats is, right under our noses 
'Cause Tash brings the chronic, so f*ck a dozen roses 
Talk they feet out sweep em from the second that I peep em 
'Cause the women look so good I want to take em home and keep em 
Freak em, but only with my Jimmy well protected 
'Cause I know you want it raw but I can't give it to ya naked
So chill for a second while I wreck it on the Audi 
'Cause I kick that kinda shit that leaves y'all bitches brains cloudy 
Now we, come to the payoff because I'm way off 
I f*ck parties up like Ferris Bueller on his Day Off 
So peep how I creep and how deep I dive 
With the Olde English crack just to make it live 

One for you, one for you 
One for you, one for you 
A few for your crew, and this one's for you  
Damn we out of fuckin brew 
Then f*ck it, then we through 
Three drunk motherfuckers goin' round the outside 
Round the outside, round the outside 
Three drunk motherfuckers goin' round the outside 
Once again 
Three drunk motherfuckers goin' round the outside 
Round the outside, round the outside 
Three drunk motherfuckers goin round the outside 
And we gonna f*ck it up, motherfuckers 

Yeah that's right, go keep all your hoes motherfuckers 
It's 1996, Likwit crew, Alkaholiks, King Tee 
Xzibit, Phil Da Agony, Defari 
Uhh, A-K-A the Forty Downers 
What y'all know about this? 
West coast hip-hop at it's motherfuckin' finest 
(Uhh, Phil Da Ag in the house) 
Forty To Da Head in the house 
(X to the Z in the house) 
E-Swift on the beat 
(And Barber Shop in the house) 
Need I say more? 
(West coast, East coast) 
Hell no! 
(All over the world, and we out)

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    "Pass Out Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 22 Jan. 2021. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/1903094>.

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