Over Here - Tha Alkaholiks

I make this shit look easy nigga

Y’know?

Yeah, uhh, look

I make this rap shit look easy so fuck a rocket scientist

Just tables and a mic and Tash’ll rock them old appliances

Alliances was formed in California, swarmin

The West coast is back so it’s finally dawnin on 'em

The West coast ain’t went nowhere but up the street

To get a half ounce of kush, a couple bitches and the heat

Freaky-Ric (k)y be the system, cause my style is extra popular

Your girl think it’s sexy when I’m drinkin beer on top of her

Crazy as a baby but the grown CaTash get it

J-Ro and King Tee we represent the click Likwit

I would fix it if it’s broke but we far from broke homey

Above the law so the cops can’t plant no coke on me

Only way to stop CaTash is, jump out the bushes

Or snipe me through a window while I put away the dishes

But that’ll never happen, I’mma dyin at this rappin

You won’t make it to your car before the straps start to clappin

You know how we get down («Kick it over here»)

We show no fear, that’s how we («Kick it over here»)

You might wanna visit and («Kick it over here»)

But then you disappear, cause it’s amped over here

Yeah, that’s just how we do it round here

You might wanna show up and («Kick it over here»)

West coast 'bout to blow up, you scared call the cops

All hell breaks loose when we («Mmmm, DROP!»)

I drove in with a few rowdy friends, new body Benz

King Jaffe ends, my rims don’t spin

I’m the type of nigga had it poppin in the pen

You the type of nigga I was sockin in the chin

But look I bought the bar then, 'gnac and gin

Gran Marnier, nigga mixed with Henn

The King ain’t trippin cause I just don’t grin

My crew ain’t snitchin dog, they just don’t bend

So, don’t stress, doja, straight to the chest

Now hold it, get loaded

I’m the bomb young stunna, that old new old school dude

88, fin' to «Act a Fool»

And your boy been ballin, nigga been brawlin

Nigga been haulin, nigga been lordin

Terrorize set by section, Tha Liks’ll make a killin

They mention King Tee’s in the building?

Alkaholiks hold the title, real American Idols

No chance for survival for the Likwit rivals

Lookin at my timepiece, it’s about to hit noon

And I just kicked a dimepiece up outta my room

And it’s been a couple minutes and I’m gettin lonely

I need another Cali-rony who only smokes the stony

Green like green tea, I sip the Likwit

Alkaholiks in the house, y’all punks evicted

Go get folded up like the cuff in my jeans

Ever since I was a teen, I made music for the fiends

Y’all make music for the mentally lean

In the land of the blind, the one-eyes man is king

J-Ro flow is tropical, scientifical, topical

I read a whole novel while I’m puffin an optimo

California carnivore, wild as a wild boar

We’ll do an album, pick a tour, while you hangin at the liquor store