作词 : Eric Brooks/James Anthony Robinson/Rico Smith 作曲 : Eric Brooks/James Anthony Robinson/Rico Smith Verse One: J-Ro I'm the beer rational outta national My cash flow is thick like mashed potato-oes in the gravy Wsup wavy, thanks to my homey King Tee-la the host wit the most, Im coast to coast like Aunt Peela the Cowboys beat the Steelers so ***** where's my $50 boom bap to your cap if your eyes is lookin shiftee In this game of rappin your ass will never win and let you play b-b rickers wit Quik, Suge and Mack 10 who need to come join these words like conjunction a friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions when I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin it You comin up empty like your Mother Hubbard's cabinet Cause you keep comin wit rhymes guns so deeply Example is the school of mankind ****** so peep me you Range-Rovin, Tommy Hil and bustin glocks while I'm in the studio bustin lyrics in my socks and the A-C is broken, no jokin we got the worm witout the coke-in the ****** DAT machine is smokin The pizza still aint here, we out of beer and I think this ************ engineer is a queer and my dip is blowin up my hip whats up honey (eh J-Ro the land lord really wants his money) AWW **** Chorus Contents under pressure, contents under pressure I hope for the best and expect the worst get stress off my chest everytime I bust a verse Verse Two: Tash Ain't no describin the way that Tash be feelin when he's vibin be feelin like a deadly secret agent on assignment dont **** wit microfilms, I want the microphones and tables that some ****** stole while I was at a meeting wit my label cuz Tash will rock your cradle wit the fatal rhymes that pound put you down cuz your lyrics suck more than Divine Brown while Im off that Royal Crown gettin party at the Atmospheric wit the 40's and the Hennesy to get yall in the spirit so bounce to the lyrics of the noble Likwit warrior get the stress out or try to maintain like X and Gloria poundin your surroundin stuffin at you from the Liks styles harder to decode than grafitti on the bricks so read my tag and weep, while I drive you off the deep wit the Alkie style that rock you and made Quantum wanna leap cuz Tash in the streets plays for keeps on micros its the never ending quest for west coast rap titles Chorus Verse Three: J-Ro, E-Swift, Tash Yo I walk in the place, kicks un-laced wit a bitter beer face, (a 40?) naw a whole case wit flows like these, we not your average MC's we be the drunken masters of ceremonies these rappers come out hard then turn fake like rayon put I choose to stick to the streets like a crayon in order to go pop, we'd have to stop comin fresher Contents under pressure.... And there ain't no tellin when we bout to explode like tall cans in the freezer when they get too cold we gotta title to hold, west coast ghetto gold more than half a million know these beats got soul we still under pressure, thats my motivation to let this drunk technique leak thru out the nation Im stressed out, for weeks wit no sleep and no roll in the studio cuz I know this shits gotta blow When you see me on the mic we go buck for buck We only battle decent ******, so be glad y'all suck Cause if I take ten steps and turn around I'll destroy ya Cause my style be up in ****** like I'm Oscar De La Hoya The crew you got before ya, Tash the top gunner so try to stay on float while the current pulls you under Cause read what it stands fool, like on the bulletin wit skills they couldnt teach your ass at Cal State Fulleton I'm in the zone like the Bulls at home wit mad stains on my shirt from all the beer and foam Cause the crew wit all the brew, buries squads like treasures Wit the Hennessee and Coke tryin to deal wit life's pressure
作词 : Eric Brooks/James Anthony Robinson/Rico Smith 作曲 : Eric Brooks/James Anthony Robinson/Rico Smith Verse One: J-Ro I'm the beer rational outta national My cash flow is thick like mashed potato-oes in the gravy Wsup wavy, thanks to my homey King Tee-la the host wit the most, Im coast to coast like Aunt Peela the Cowboys beat the Steelers so ***** where's my $50 boom bap to your cap if your eyes is lookin shiftee In this game of rappin your ass will never win and let you play b-b rickers wit Quik, Suge and Mack 10 who need to come join these words like conjunction a friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions when I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin it You comin up empty like your Mother Hubbard's cabinet Cause you keep comin wit rhymes guns so deeply Example is the school of mankind ****** so peep me you Range-Rovin, Tommy Hil and bustin glocks while I'm in the studio bustin lyrics in my socks and the A-C is broken, no jokin we got the worm witout the coke-in the ****** DAT machine is smokin The pizza still aint here, we out of beer and I think this ************ engineer is a queer and my dip is blowin up my hip whats up honey (eh J-Ro the land lord really wants his money) AWW **** Chorus Contents under pressure, contents under pressure I hope for the best and expect the worst get stress off my chest everytime I bust a verse Verse Two: Tash Ain't no describin the way that Tash be feelin when he's vibin be feelin like a deadly secret agent on assignment dont **** wit microfilms, I want the microphones and tables that some ****** stole while I was at a meeting wit my label cuz Tash will rock your cradle wit the fatal rhymes that pound put you down cuz your lyrics suck more than Divine Brown while Im off that Royal Crown gettin party at the Atmospheric wit the 40's and the Hennesy to get yall in the spirit so bounce to the lyrics of the noble Likwit warrior get the stress out or try to maintain like X and Gloria poundin your surroundin stuffin at you from the Liks styles harder to decode than grafitti on the bricks so read my tag and weep, while I drive you off the deep wit the Alkie style that rock you and made Quantum wanna leap cuz Tash in the streets plays for keeps on micros its the never ending quest for west coast rap titles Chorus Verse Three: J-Ro, E-Swift, Tash Yo I walk in the place, kicks un-laced wit a bitter beer face, (a 40?) naw a whole case wit flows like these, we not your average MC's we be the drunken masters of ceremonies these rappers come out hard then turn fake like rayon put I choose to stick to the streets like a crayon in order to go pop, we'd have to stop comin fresher Contents under pressure.... And there ain't no tellin when we bout to explode like tall cans in the freezer when they get too cold we gotta title to hold, west coast ghetto gold more than half a million know these beats got soul we still under pressure, thats my motivation to let this drunk technique leak thru out the nation Im stressed out, for weeks wit no sleep and no roll in the studio cuz I know this shits gotta blow When you see me on the mic we go buck for buck We only battle decent ******, so be glad y'all suck Cause if I take ten steps and turn around I'll destroy ya Cause my style be up in ****** like I'm Oscar De La Hoya The crew you got before ya, Tash the top gunner so try to stay on float while the current pulls you under Cause read what it stands fool, like on the bulletin wit skills they couldnt teach your ass at Cal State Fulleton I'm in the zone like the Bulls at home wit mad stains on my shirt from all the beer and foam Cause the crew wit all the brew, buries squads like treasures Wit the Hennessee and Coke tryin to deal wit life's pressure
