Lyrics Tha Alkaholiks

Tha Alkaholiks

Promote Violins

Ever since I was young I wanted to be

Somethin like what I am, uhuhhhhhh...

We promote violins!

Yeah - check me out

We promote violins!

E-Swiftulaus, Kurupt Young Gotti Neo Deastro(?)

Franklin Gostra the Sixth, Sixth..

(Let's go, Kurupt..)

May I laugh (?) to yourself, shells

Before honor and war I just can't tell

I can't fake these soliloquies, silencers off

The art of warfare in here violence is off (ha)

Po-po's gone, periscopes on

Telescopes on, and tell her that hope gone

And show her that war is war, fours and forty-fours

Banana peeling clips stacked ceiling to floor boards

Head up the concourse, like (?) in concourse

Scissorhands bulldoze ran like Honda Accords

I'm perfect with every note, 'til the periscope's on

Play like the accordian perfect with every chord

We combine, mental body and soul's Columbine

Hope floats like public streams, ravines

Harm forces that bear armed forces

Puttin body parts all over walls and public signs

Anxious as Ginuwine

Congressional street scholar, professional street soldier

Intellectual Manitoba, California to Cuba

Gooding like Cuba Gooding gettin blown like a tuba

Dead in the head shells shed red October

Shed and spread, cock and pop the glock only

I'm with King Tee and Tha Liks, Alkahol it up like

bitch - get the fuck off my dick

I got pistols, pills, acid, bombs

Crank, crystalized coke in lines

I don't give a fuck (we don't give a fuck about nuttin)

I don't give a fuck (we don't give a fuck about nuttin)

I don't give a fuck (we don't give a fuck about nuttin)

You the only one walkin around with a hot stolen gun

Thinkin you Napolean and dream of holdin some

while I'm rollin one it's like a medieval upheaval, the regal

get chopped up and found on both coasts, gettin ate up by the seagulls

Now you out for the season, J-Ro is the reason you freezin

In the cold sneezin

While I'm takin pictures cheesin at the Likwid meetin eatin

And we all got heat that be repeatin for you knee-gaz

We trippin sippin on Hen and ready to quench yo' thirst

Every time I kick a verse you wish you'd thought of it first

I need a NURSE (why J?) before my head burst

from divin headfirst into your local networks

Some people think hip-hop is so obnoxious

Some people get a kick out of it like shoe boxes

I hope that, MC'sll get a lot of G's per rap

Cause while the microphones are on, the place I'll spit my words at

If I was in the ring with four men, they'd have to get more men

with mops and towels for all the liquid pourin

King Tee and Tha Liks, and Kurupt fuck it up like

BITCH, get the fuck off my dick

I got hookers, hoes, tramps, pigeons

Bitches, rats, sluts with big butts

I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck)

I don't give a fuck (I don't give a MOTHERfuck)

(There it is.. there it goes..)

So while the clock be tock tickin Tha Liks be hop hippin

Straight drop-kickin victims 'til they egos stop trippin

Bitchin while my set is on set to set it off

While they set to set-trippin but still can't get it off

This section sectioned off for the fly hoes and Alkies

Y'all niggaz know the rules you can't pop bottles without me

It's Likwid, and all my niggaz is Don Kings

Gettin drunk, writin rhymes by the pool in Palm Springs

Cause ain't nuttin changed but the size of the bottles

We still rock the shows with a Rollo-ass wobble

So look but don't touch cause everybody know the facts is

Tash a maniac, Tash had tracks with actors

Still with Tha Liks, alcoholed it up like

BITCH, get the fuck off my dick

I got juice, gin, Mo' (Cris) Hen

Walkin in the mall with thirty thousand to spend

So fuck y'all (we, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck (fuck, don't, give, a)

I don't give a fuck