Lyrics: Tha Liks. X.O. Experience. Sickness.

(feat. Butch Cassidy)

[Tash]
You ready? Are you ready?
Aiyyo we need some beer to the stage quick (quick-quick-quick..)
Alkaholiks on the set (oooh-OOOH!)
Y'all ready? (ooh-OOP!) Uhh..

Aiyyo it's six million drinks to try, choose one
So you can catch a buzz while Likwid show you how it's done
Bouncin off the walls is just my niggaz havin fun
With all these weak niggaz, why the fuck'd we lose Pun?
Damn it's a trip to see the world twist around us
But Tha Alkaholik clique, a.k.a. the 40 downers
gets twisty, twisty, yak and brews
Black Rob flows is "Whoa!", Tha Liks is like "Whoo!"
Is there a doctor in the house cause somebody gonna need him
Tash fight for his right to party, I need my freedom
So I can drink in public without the cops eyein me
F.B.I. spyin me cause everybody buyin me

[Chorus: Butch Cassidy]
I got drunk and got down with Tha Liks
But before I put it down all I need is a fix
Now bust a nut - I rhymes aways on different days
And everybody wonder how I stay so blazed
I'm like a sickness; I'm like a sickness but there is no cure
And when you hear my voice don't it sound so pure
Tha Alka-holiks know, come bust fo' sho'
So whether we together kickin down the doors

[J-Ro]
From Lake Buteras to Paris generic rappers get embarassed
We inherit b-boy Sermons just like Erick's
Liks been flowin longer than your grandparent's marriage
Eatin buzzed brownies more than Bugs eat carrots
Kick back in the 'llac like a horse and a carriage
Spittin "The Facts of Life" more than Tudy and Ms. Garrett
When I'm runnin my errands Dayton rims feel like Ferris
Get socked in your larynx, if yo' ass get careless

[Tash]
Aiyyo who stole the soul? I did cause I was desperate
Send a random note to Loud - I want a million for my next shit
I know you got the money Steve just reach into that grab bag
Then step back and watch me drop these "Bombs On Baghdad"
Cause Tash rap melodical, drunk periodical
Niggaz think they hot but I'm seein they ain't got it though
I'm from L.A. you from Idaho, no skills you gotta go
Fo' albums deep, so y'all motherfuckers gotta know
We birds of a feather so we, smoke together
Tha Liks and Rocwilder gonna, choke whoever
ain't in this motherfucker comin raw dog style
Hold my drink Mr. Tan while I jump in the crowd

[Chorus]

[J-Ro]
Excuse my gutter language, but fuck bein famous
Ro bust for nameless don of rhymin china chainless
Olde English ancient drive Chevy's with paint chips
I breathe herb, so they say my words is tainted
Let's take it back to "Colors" get your face painted with fat caps
I got more rhymes in my mind than you can fit in your backpacks
Go 'head, eat 'em up like snack packs
I stay busy like crack shacks
I like my hoes with the lickable toes
And the silver dollar nipples that be pokin out the clothes
Now I suppose you want flows like MackinRo's
Cause you be standin on the stage at all our motherfuckin shows
James Robinson, even my name is dominant
Lyrics astonishin from the Likwid Conglomerate
My crew in it, I'm in it, so we remain prominent
Rap game I'm bombin it, it's too much Uncle Tom in it

[Chorus x2]