Pass Out Lyrics - Tha Alkaholiks

Ah! 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 40's 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 

C'mere 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' till 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 wackiest two bitches 

Look flayer than the hennas 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, uh 

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, 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, wack 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 MC's up and throw em in my burrito 

What? Never interrupt me when I'm speakin' 

Just sit your ass down and say, "Weallll" like a Deacon 

Fuck 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 fuck a dozen roses 

Talk they feet out sweep 'em from the second that I peep 'em 

'Cause the women look so good I wanna 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 fuck 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 

One for you and this one's for you 

Damn we out of fuckin' brew then fuck 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 fuck 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 

Uh, A.K.A. the Forty Downers, what y'all know about this? 

West coast hip-hop at it's motherfuckin' finest 

(Uh, 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)