Tha Alkaholiks - Last Call lyrics

Yo last call, last call
Last call for alcohol!
At two, you're through!
Ay bartender! Bartender! Yo whassup man?
Ay man, man let me get arummmmm and coke
Yo man don't you think you had a
Little bit too much to drink?
Ay just let me get one more man
Yo man I'm lookin out for you man
It's your life
Man I'll hop over this motherfucker and
Get my OWN damn drink
Hey niggy, what time it is

It's time to roll my sleeves
Fuck a few MCs up another rough cut
From the crew that won't ease up
The Alkaholik clique, aka the forty downers
Flips rhymes like Calvin flips
Fries and quarter pounders
I never drink and drive 'cause
I might spill my drink
I failed the breathalizer so they
Took me to the clink
Niggas 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 'cause all I do is bang cuts
That's why I hang around my group
Like a dick hang with nuts

I push one two's when niggas 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 to, my skill
On the nine inches of steel
You ask me what the K's for
They don't mean nothin


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)

Yeah word alkaholik style nigga

Uh, I be one of dem niggas 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

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)

Yeahthat nigga Squid is in the house
I got a forty-four Mag with the clip
(with a clip) so MCs watch your lip
'cause I'm shootin from the hip ahh
I rip like Oprah
In tight jeans doin' split's
You need a repairman because your
Shit's is on the fritz
It's crazy, a few MCs amaze me
With this Alkie style of rock
Mr spock couldn't faze 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
MCs who ain't dope call me J-Ro the klepto
'cause I'm steeling to the jaw
Of these half baked rappers
Trying to get raw

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
'Cause, 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

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)

Uhhdamn 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