Music Video
Tha Alkaholiks, Ol’ Dirty Bastard: Hip Hop Drunkies (EXPLICIT) [UP.S 2K] (1997)
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tash
Performer
Ol' Dirty Bastard
Performer
The Alkaholiks
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Eric Brooks
Songwriter
Rico Smith
Songwriter
James Anthony Robinson
Songwriter
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
What's yo' name?
What's yo' name?
My name is Ol Dirty Bastard and I'ma alcoholic
Yeah me too, ****
[Verse 2]
You're no rocking with the Lik
So start reaching for the ozone
I see some girls I know, but y'all look different with your clothes on
What's up though, Tash came to steal it like the Grinch
While I'm leaving **** puzzled like I said my shit in French
But it's all old English that I'm bringing from beneath
Try to bite my style on wax and watch these lyrics crack your teeth
'Cause I make words connect like West Side when I test glide
My drunken lyrical hang glider, nobody's tighter
Than a ruff rap provider with ninety ways to peel ya
So I know the three words Tash'll kill ya sound familiar
I filter out the weak every time I speak
I drink to hit the peak to make my mind go beep
I'm def-de-fying, you rapping like my client
Trying to scrape me for the style that slam harder than Kobe Bryant
Be quiet! This is Likwidation from the West
Muthafuck ya boozy show, I got my own special guest
[Verse 3]
Break-yo, Break-yo, Break-yo one nine
I bust this bitch in the behind with the silver shine
'Cause she thought she was fine
She winked at me, I thought I was fine
This **** pouting, this ho was mine
I had the alcohol in me, took my time
Let a **** rotate, turn on the table
Put in diamond needle, pull it to your ego
What, you the king in the chair on my ground
The Tyson of sound, it's twenty seconds to a round
Scavenger ****, you's a shrimp, a full line of shit
My ear can't digest it
Stop drinking all that muthafuckin' water
Let's take it to the land
So I can Godzilla up your shit, Mr. Tiny Tim man
**** be creeping up my beanstalk
When I start to come down on your fuckin' asses
Try to chop ship on up, get these nuts
Muthafucka what?
[Verse 4]
The Ro pimped the flow like a ho
So I should Rap on the microphone
My rhymes hitting hard enough to crack a bone
I divide square MC's like math
Bend you in half and drink a Genuine Draft
I stomp him then I skied out with all wampum
When he's laying on the ground I let my Dog Scrilla chop him
Switch reels, I feels it's all about skills
The outcome's unbeliveable like Tyson Holyfield
Your lyrics are loners return 'em to they're rightful owners
My style is wild like G's or the pistols
No need to ask, I put you on like ski mask
We can fight the power like this was PE class
I bomb squads like Hank Shock
Peace to my **** Scott putting stickers on the block
I drink more Brewsters than Punky
It's the further adventures of the hip-hop drunkies
[Verse 5]
You bitches are hoes
Put it in ya neck my muthafuckin' ho
Or in you butthole
Wherever the fuck it goes
You bitches are hoes
Put it in ya neck, my muthafuckin' ho
Or in your ear hole
Wherever the fuck it goes
[Verse 6]
Yeah, yo yo
Don't disrespect to any architect
Who tried to perfect, oh what the heck
I'm a MC director, rhyme inspector
Rated top ten, Brooklyn borough sector
[Verse 7]
It's the Pack town original b-boy, I'm rapping
What's happening, so dope got the pope clapping
I'm smacking on some chicken, what you kicking?
You tricking while I'm vicking
Hoes, you stick your dick in Tash
[Verse 8]
Step outta place, Tash'll smack your taste out your face
'Cause there's nowhere to hide unless you move to outer space
'Cause I waste muthafuckers like toxic fumes
So you better make room
When you hear the boom boom
[Verse 9]
Hey sugar plum, how can you assume
That the pitch of the volume doesn't have no tune?
I'm not your everyday regular rap star peddler
One on one at you rap seminar
Beware of the hard way
Three's the hard way at you, fucker
[Verse 10]
So ayo, my name is J-Ro
And my style is so dope they call it ya-yo
I don't rap fast, I love green grass
Nothing nice on the mic call me a mean ass
[Verse 11]
Extra da-llama, bring the hahaha
Extra extra bring the da-llama
Verse a better one than slice-a-versa
God acre, massacre murderer
Also known as a rap wrecker not a rhyme rebel
You just rhyme to survive the streets
True beaters, minerals and rhymes survive lyrics
Like the acre without the attic but now the only asiatic
True God but my dick is my lightning rod
Ho, don't kick that mumbo jumbo
[Verse 12]
See, this type of shit **** don't try at home
I come from fuckin' up the spot like Micheal Jordan's cologne
With the mega drunken style to keep the crowd pumping
**** looking at me like Tash is up to something
Get drunk and I stumbled, but I didn't come to trip
I came to bring it to ya humble
Tumble all your plots and all your plans
Old Dirty's in the house and that's my muthafuckin' man
[Verse 13]
It's the Likwid crew
Coming through with Old Dirty form the Wu
Passing your party, jetting out with all the brew
So what y'all new **** think you wanna do?
It's the Likwid crew
Coming through with Old Dirty form the Wu
Passing your party, jetting out with all the brew
So what y'all new **** think you wanna do?
Written by: Eric Brooks, James Anthony Robinson, Rico Smith
