Bottoms Up Lyrics

Bottoms Up Lyrics

Intro: Tash

Yes yes yes yes yes yeah-he-ha-ha-ha!
Back to drown ya'll motherf**kaz!
Who we got, we got, we got
We got the Liks, we got the Liks, we got the Liks
Cause MC's in ninety-five, MC's in ninety-five
MC's in ninety-five that think they rock like
MC's in ninety-five, MC's in ninety-five
MC's in ninety-five that swear they rock live

Verse One:

MC's in ninety-five they need way more rehearsin
They write they booty kyrics then they add they little curse in
YOu're not a true hip-hop person
Spend a little time with your rhymes and quit makin wack versions
I send this sh*t out to all them niggaz from that group
With the ninety minute demo sounding just like Snoop
You better bizzay, your ass up out my rhyme zone
Fore I leave you on the ground broke up like pine cones
You're rootin and tootin but ain't did no shootin
while the freshest hip-hop, it curses verses like a wicked witch
Disaster, cock the rhyme flows back to kill
To get me out your system takes more than Golden Seal
Cause I bust so many flows I gotta file my sh*t in columns
while MC's be goin down like Olympiads that slalom, rock-bottom
I got em, left without no watchers
While I be housin niggaz like they put up for adoption
I rock loaded, I never get promoted
But through the bullsh*t my crew stays devoted
While you be bustin lyrics bout the funs y'all niggaz toted
I'll be standin like a b-boy with both arms folded
But no exucses, I still get the loosest
When RIco's in the house tryin to grab the mic and juice this
So back the f**k up like we told you last time
Cause it's the Liks in the house with the ninety-five rhymes

Chorus: Repeat 4X

We can do out thing (we can do our thing), bottoms up!

Verse Two: J-Ro

I wake up, kill a roach, call the homies, hit some weights
Reminesce about the shows we did in fourty-eight states
Banned in the rest, but we was on tour with who
De La, and Quest, we made the crowd say yes (yes)
Now it's like f**k, Make Room, move your ass out my way
Bay-bee, bay-bee
WIth all these hoes around clwon, why you wanna bang?
Let's have a celebration like Kool and the Gang
I bring it all the way back, like a punk return
I rock some spots and call more shots than Chick Hearns
The only MC I like is Amante
I was drinkin Asi Spumante wit cha auntie
Bust them lyrics shots from the AKG
When it comes to style and finesse, I'm the epitome
Hit a beat, make em all retire, flyer
higher than a jet, like Stet I'm on fire
Causin pain like a runaway train you don't stop
Drop the track, now watch it flow back to the top
I'm the J-R-O, not J-E-R-U
And you know what we came to do, bottoms up!

Chorus

Verse Three: King Tee

When you hear screams, that means King Tee walked in
The advertisement, and that nigga's bent
Raise up off the wall, b**ches Last Call
Ready for the ruckus, pushin motherf**kers off the stage
Teela's got a brand new gauge
So Make Room, for the crew with beats that
I got a complex I guess I bust best with stress
A mess, don't bring that sh*t to the West, cause
Uhhh, I bring drama, like Jeffery Dahmer
Choppin up MC's with they mama
Ah-hah! Oops I made a funny with the dozens
The one-est, who busts rough rhymes for the cousins
Super Nigga's comin! Faster than a bullet
Leapin over buildings, wavin at the children
And don't even trip cause the Alkaholiks funk don't cease
Tash I'm up out this piece

Chorus (repeat until fades)