Tha Alkaholiks, Lootpack - Turn the Party Out lyrics

[Tha Alkaholiks, Lootpack - Turn the Party Out lyrics]

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

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 carry 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

Bitches on my woody 'cause I
Likes to get the loosest
I eat niggas 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

I'ma wreck the neck conducting
Props like Randy Wrecker
The mecca licka, mega hot, mega mic checka
Call me diesel to the easel, the weasel
The wacky
The packy, the Rikki, Tikki, the Tavi
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 Rumplestilskin 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 niggas running

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

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 checka 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
Niggas 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 buck wild 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

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