21 & Over

Verse one: e-swift

Hoes on my nuts just because of my position
Can't fade the bitches that's always bitchin
Love to kick beats, rock rhymes on occasion
Down with the niggaz that the hoes keep pagin
Gimme gimme gimme my gin and super-sak
Then, let me hit the doobie, can't fuck with the rock
Bust one shot if you're (with me with me)
Niggaz swing back don't (hit me hit me)
I can freak freak the funk the funk funk
And hit skins all night if i wanna when i'm drunk
Can't fade the pop pop pop goes the nina
Tha liks be rockin shows from new york to pasadena
When it comes to rhymes -- god damn i can rock em
When it comes to boots -- god damn i can knock em
Got mad flavor so do me a favor
And bump that shit it's the motherfuckin liks!

Verse two: field trip

Aiyyo, i cut like a ginsu, i been through, hell
And back, stabbers get swell
Tossed from my balls
Bitches lick the crush off my balls
Pause, yo
I'm lickin off walls
To scatter, nigga this is theory
And my shit is kinda fatter
Stagger, cause i got shanked by a dagger
Yo you can't fuck with the wild wild west
I'm a shady ass nigga and i slit you like stress
They say ballers only sport guess
But that's a motherfuckin lie cuz i got a pair of levi's
Niggaz rollin thick like a new york steak
Field trip on the beach (now got your momma on some pancakes)
I know you sayin (damn that little nigga's dope)
I got a loaded tec nine under my motherfuckin coat
Niggaz wanna jack the back, never nope
I stick my gat down your throat, and tell your ass no

Verse three: tash

The forty's kickin in i gotta drain my main vein
Got drinks in my freezer bust styles i can't explain
And the name of my group ain't changin cuz it fit us
Hit us, one time, for my cats that ain't with us
On the down low drinkin whiskey in the basement
If a sample won't clear i substitue with a replacement
(one two ya don't stop when it hits two o'clock
You can't buy the alcohol so you drink soda pop
Like that and uhh, it's like that
Sometimes it's like that)

[king tee] yeah, yeah, yeah, ay
How y'all like that one right there?
Y'all like that one?
Yeah, that's my boys
Them my boys tha alkaholiks yaknowhati'msayin?

Intro: j-ro

(whooo! hah hah!) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah we kickin it
Uhh uhh uhh we kickin it
Yeah yeah we kickin it
(whooo!) yeah yeah we kickin it
Yeah, cali in the house
Huh, uhh, fred in the house
Check it out, bullshit!

Verse one: j-ro

I'm j-ro the man, i'm gettin down
I gets mo daps than h. rap brown
I drive the hoes wild cause they love the way i talk
You can't drive me crazy cause i'm close enough to walk
I bust threes like terry tegall, get higher than a eagle
You're just a dirty pigeon, bsn bout religion
I don't give a damn if you don't eat ham
You grab the microphone and reguse to slam
I make a nigga scared to grab the mic behind me
I kick shit so deep king neptune couldn't fine me
Yo, can i get a go j-ro?
(go j-ro!) to let me know if i can flow
I probably be doper if i smoked crack like you
But swift and tash'll beat my ass until i'm black and blue
Cause i ain't with, no way out shit
I'm tired of this one-hittin played out shit

Some niggaz rock like the liks... bullshit!
Uhh, i hate big tits... bullshit!
We'll never make another hit... bullshit!
I don't drink cause i quit... bullshit!

Come on
(whooo!) yeah yeah yeah yeah
We kickin it (hold up) we kickin it
We kickin it

Baby youse my one and only... bullshit!
Baby that's a true fact... bullshit!
Uhh, i never leave ya lonely... bullshit!
Yo, i'll call you right back... bullshit!

Verse two: j-ro, king tee

Baby don't take the blame youse a real cool dame
But now that i made you call my name you just don't look the same
From the middle of the bed i bang your head like a rock n roller
On the way out, i smacked a nigga with my pistol-a
When i met you i sure wishin aye tower
You hopped on my dank like there was no tomorrow
All i wanted was some sexin, now you want affection
Damn i hate to see your ass comin in my direction
Wait here, i'll be right back, i'm goin to get a spliff
You know i'm goin through your ass like emmitt smith

Well oh snap! here goes a fashion
That's incredible, with the style
That i learned back as a younglin, where's the beef
Don't sleep, i used to run around with the creeps
Ain't no tellin, jack told helen
About a lot of people so i'm runnin for the border
And get me a taco, gin and sako
Mom and pop yo, i'm rockin this shit!
It's not a plan i wrote the book called style
Taught the child how to stand when he piss
Be a man, go fuck jan
The white man's tan, bring back mc shan

And i rhymed every word... bullshit!
Wackest style you ever heard... bullshit!

Outro:

For the beats sake, rock on rock on
For the beats sake, rock on rock on
And you go whoooo! grand groove, grand groove
(alkaholiks y'all, alkaholiks y'all) uhh, take it back now
Cause it's fat now, that's how i bring it back now
Whoooo! grand groove grand groove
This one dedicated, to all the motherfuckers out there
Bullshittin
This wonderful bullshit how would you make a record
Bullshit!
I don't smoke no bullshit!
I don't drink no bullshit!
I don't fuck no bullshit!
This one goes out to the p-town
And all over, yeah baby, yeah baby, compton baby
Everybody in the house
And we out... alkaholiks...

Intro: bartender and j-ro

Yo last call, last call, last call for alcohol!
At two, you're through!

{j-ro} ay bartendah! bartender!
{bart} yo whassup man?
{j-ro} ay man, man let me get a... rummmmm an coke
{bart} yo man don't you think you had a little bit too much to drink?
{j-ro} ay just let me get one more man
{bart} yo man i'm lookin out for you man, it's your life
{j-ro} man i'll hop over this motherfucker and get my own damn drink

Hey niggy, what time it is...

Verse one: tash

It's time to roll my sleeves, fuck a few mc's up
Another rough cut, from the crew that won't ease up
The alkaholik click, aka the forty downers
Flips rhymes like calvin flips fries and quarter pounders
I never drink and drive cuz i might spill my drink
I failed the breathalizer so they took me to the clink
Niggaz earlin in the sink cause they can't fade the cisco
I'm from the old school but i never rocked a disco
Loops from the group that, likes to smack the bitches
Tha liks is hittin hookers like a gangsta hittin switches
Front, to the back, to the side, to the side
And make you dance with these bitches but, no electric slidin
And i'm about to flip, but first i'm bout to sip
Off the forty ounce of brew that i was savin for the trip
Back to the lab cuz all i do is bang cuts
That's why i hang around my group like a dick hang with nuts

Verse two: j-ro

I push one two's when niggaz step on my shoes
Oh you haven't heard the news i've been giving fools blues
Manhandling chumps that step up, just to keep my rep up
I push my fist through your grill
I never became a gangsta, thanks ta, my skill
On the nine inches of steel
You ask me what the k's for, they don't mean nothin
["k's for the way my dee-jay's kuttin" -- schoolly d, p.s.k.]

Chorus: tash, group

Last call y'all {call y'all}
Call y'all {call y'all}
{last call, for alcohol}
Last call y'all {call y'all}
Call y'all {call y'all}
{last call, for alcohol}

[j-ro] yeah... word
[tash] alkaholik style nigga

Verse three: e-swift

Uh, i be one of dem niggaz known to drink a gang of brewskis
Float like the wind, so all y'all can call me cool breeze
Cooler than my man morris day in the winter
The dope rhyme inventor, rockin shows at the center
So pass the mic on the, down low
Now go grab a forty from the liquor sto'
And you don't stop {don't stop} and you don't quit {don't quit}
Unless you're in the studio making wack shit

Chorus

[j-ro] yeah... that nigga squid is in the house

Verse four: j-ro

I got a forty-four mag with the clip (with a clip)
So mc's watch your lip, cause i'm shootin from the hip ahh
I rip like oprah, in tight jeans do
And splits a needle wrap a pair man because them shits is on the fritz
It's crazy, a few mc's amaze me
With this alkie style of rock, mr. spock couldn't phase me
Rhymin pays me, but i do it anyway
Many say, ay, when it comes to rhymes you got plenty j
I'm so cool i drink forty ounces of freon
You never see me on the stage with a peon
When we on the microphone it's like jordan all alone
We slam, competition, scram damn
Can we get along? nope.
Switchblade to the throat to mc's who ain't dope
Call me j-ro the clepto, cuz i'm stealing to the jaw
Of these half-baked rappers, trying to get raw

Verse five: tash

Soul in my strut, muscle in my hustle
It's just a little something for them punks that wanna bust they little
Def jam comedy, raps that make me crack up
You better call the one-time and tell em send a backup
Cuz i'm about to act up, i couldn't kick a verse
J-ro say he got it bad, so that mean i got it worse
Check uno dos, crack a forty, make a toast
Let me rip the instrumental and impress the west coast

Chorus

[j-ro] uhh... damn it feels like my bones is rattling
Uhh ohhh shit! i'm outta here...

Ohh yeah, tell the sons of jones to kiss my ass

Verse one: j-ro

Mary jane, mary jane, mary jane
You're always in my brain and you help me ease the pain
Cuz when you're not around i just don't feel the same
I can't be your one and only but i know you're not to blame
I never hold ya can't hold ya won't hold ya down
Cuz you got that kind of love that needs to be spread around
Some people don't approve of me being with ya kiddo
They say you're bad for me, and my momma says ditto
When i walk up witcha, my buddies wanna hit cha
I know you been with others but you know i'll never quit ya
And even though sometimes you got my mind stressed out
I'm in this with you baby and you got my body stretched out

Mary mary mary jane
["so put that in your pipe and smoke it" -- pharcyde]
Check it out

Verse two: j-ro

Early in the morning, you gave me a buzz
I picked up the phone and didn't know who the fuck it was
I feel like johnny gill i wanna wrap your body tight
Lick you from head to toe and watch you glow like a lite brite
I met you at the park around three
When i got there you was loungin in the car with my homey
He said he needed a dub so i slipped him one
And said "c'mon mary jane and let's have a little fun"
I got you in the sack, i got you in the sack
And like helen tellin jack, there's no turnin back
She's the queen of the ghetto, ask my buddy tom
Mary jane is the bomb, mary jane

Yeah, do you love me, do you love me
Mary jane mary jane, do you love me, do you love me
D-pimp in the house, homicide in the house
And in love with mary jane

Verse three: tash

Mary mary, why you got me buggin?
Look what the homies done drug in... (mary jane)
Prettier than any model
I met her at a house party sippin on a bottle
Her dress has got a nice fit i'm locked like a vise grip
She's the type i'd like to spend the rest of my life with
I would if i could but i know i can't support her
Can't take her on vacation, wouldn't make it past the border
When she ain't around i get the feeling that i need her
Mary jane be acting white but i ain't caught the jungle fever
But she be so thin that i could slip her in my pocket
I lick her then i knock it till i'm higher than a rocket
Whenever she's in the same room with my friends
They all trip because she's dope and she don't want me for my ends
So just to make em jealous when she walks up to me
I reach out and grab her by the booty, mary jane

Mary jane mary jane
Mary jane mary jane

Verse four: tash

My eyes are red, but not from cryin
Whenever mary jane runs out, i sit there sighin
Sayin to myself,
"when oh when will mary jane come back
Where oh where can i find mary at..."
["wear your hat" -- krs, cut and scratched by
E-swift to resemble "where you at" in the mix]
I jump into my benz and start my search all through the hood
Cuz all the spots she used to hang in ain't up to no good
But needless to say, i kept lookin and i found her
Right on the corner of central and allandra
I picked her up quick and in a hurry
And then all of a sudden the undercover swooped in flurries
I said, "hold up! don't shoot. i know this looks like a kidnap;
But all i want to do is get my mary jane back."
They took me to the station, giving me some sation
And some jib about leaving mary jane at the crib
They let me go but they kept her, because they had a bounty
On her cuz she's wanted from here to humboldt county
(i left with a frown cuz mary jane was locked down)
Once again i had lost my best friend

Intro: tash

Yeah, tha alkaholiks
Ay j, i got a crew
They called the loot pack
And they can get crazy fresh y'all, crazy fresh y'all
My man jack is about to get fresh y'all

Verse one: loot pack

Check the flavor here's a rootin tootin hydraulic trooper
Tha alkaholik grouper in the house and when i bust the hula-hooper
Peep my ish, when i flips next i flash with the cracker jacker
A true loot packer
Gettin versatile when i smile toastin to the funk
All punks put your glass down, or end up in the trunk
You wonder when my dope styles sound kind of varied
The pictionary, man with my backpack, i'll carey
Mariah took her back, and show her how i pack, loot
Kick lyrics on originally outtrack black in fact
People call me moody, i simply knocks the booty
Pull up my hoody, and then i bust a sam goody

Verse two: tash

Bitches on my woody cuz i likes to get the loosest
I eat niggaz up and wash em down with deuce gooses
A colt .45 cuz i gotsta rush the likwit
Tash from the group that the bitches wanna get with
I kick it from the east all the way to the west
Yes stay away from booze that puts the hair on your chest
And that's a little piece of advice for the kiddos
I bust more flavor than your teacher got dittoes
I keep it up to date or take it back like the twist
E-swift is out of town so the pack load the disc
So, take your ass home, good night, the party's over
If your ass is drunk, ride home with someone sober

Yeah... tha alkaholiks, ah yeah, the loot pack
(the party's over, it's all over) nineteen ninety-three
And this is how we kick it

Verse three: loot pack, j-ro

I'ma wreck the neck conducting props like randy wrecker
The mecca licka mega-hot mega-mike checka
Call me diesel to the easel, the weasel, the wacky
The packy, the rikki, tikki, the taffy
One for the trouble, two for the trouble
I gotta get snaps and spit raps on the double
On and on to the beat i wreck shop
Scoop a rumplestil-skin then i'm out, the brother with the clout
Be so dead on the loopa, the super-duper wrecka mic checka
I roll soul like an old trooper
I used to play football, now i'm into rockin
My rhyme is the tailback, the track is the blockin
My name is j-ro and i've been waitin for ages
To let the world know what i've been writin on the pages
I don't smoke sess it's rough on the west
Ok, i confess, i puff on the stress
I rip it when i wreck it, when i mic check it
Brothers check the flav, check the alkaholik record
While i flip styles, and rip styles, and hit styles
And hit piles for miles of styles, i still pile
The flavor flippin funk, bringin diesel be the packer
A trooper loop, scoop you like a hula-hoop and smack ya
Like you stutter, i ribbedyribbedyribbedyrip styles, i'm comin
The loot pack, tha alkaholiks keepin niggaz runnin

Runnin, yeah, do that shit, yeah
Turn the party out, yeah yeah
Turn the party out, c'mon c'mon

Verse four: e-swift

You think that you can fade this, you must be out to lunch
They call me e-swift, i'm from tha alkaholik bunch
I just downed a brew, now check out one two
It's the liks baby rockin with the loot pack crew
Funky like con-funk-shun, more style than stylistics
I got mo' beats than magic's got assists so
Raise up off me, or get snatched by the collar
The party ain't over till that fat bitch holler
I'm in the house so check the way i flow
Niggaz say i'm fat, everyday i say i know
But my head ain't swoll, i stay down to earth
Never gangbang, never claim the turf
But i drink a gang of forties, ain't nuttin wrong with that
Unless you go buckwild and start bustin off your gat
*bang, bang bang*
*stumbling*
Ay nigga fuck that the party's over man!
Everybody get they shit get the fuck out