WLIX Lyrics by Tha Alkaholiks

WLIX Lyrics

    Intro:

    (first 0:52 -- small club, Liks performing live
    next 0:20 -- sounds of clinking ice cubes, drinks being poured)

    Voodoo - Alright, we're back on WLIX this is Voodoo and uh
    *chaos ensues*
    E-Swift - Aiyyo, they came down, you know
    I know y'all get asses all the time
    But do me this favor
    I want y'all to bust the freestyles for us
    I wanna know who's first up, you freestyle?
    Tash - Yo yo, we got Crackerjack from the Loot Pack
    about to se this shit off, ay Crackerjack
    Set it off. I know we on the radio, yo Crackerjack
    set it off

    Verse One: Crackerjack

    Ya dumb dunce it goes once upon the rhyme, Jack is out
    to clench a fist and drop flows that gets papes like The Abyss
    All in this, freestyle's wild when I'm throwin this
    Non-bogus brothers shake the hip and toe and just
    Get involved, roll with the sould, make the head nod
    Look at the bash slash back I kick the abstract
    Make brothers say "Damn, that rap's fat," recline that ass back
    A smack-back and slap from Wild Child with the ramshack
    I used to pick up the damn slack bed on the ramps back
    in the days, when Eric, was in the, honey phase
    Nowadays, turn in applications
    Rockin the Appalachians with the ladies with the sexy activations
    on the Blackwatch, I own a black watch, although I'm Blackwatch
    You want to, confront who? A microphone check one two
    Complicated for ya [yeah]
    I got the naps that break the pics
    Plus the props from the Liks

    Ha haa, Loot Pack's on the rise
    Sayin, "Liks liks liks boy, run your backside"
    Yo, J-Ro, Mad Lib, my man
    Just, get on the mic and please arise the jam

    Verse Two: Mad Lib, J-RO

    I bust the animated suspension, vocabulary wack MC prevention
    My division is itchin for the switch
    Pitchin upon the West coast, the best brad and boast
    Bragadocious, ferocious emotional osmosis

    I skip like a stone when I lake over a break
    I rip microphones and I take over the fake creWWWs
    I wish I could sing like Smokey do
    But I'm vocally locin with the Loot Pack crew

    I'm Mad Lib, the bad kid, brothers try to do wht I did
    Back in junior high, cause I'm fly with my
    Vocabulary tradition, total chaos rhythmatic
    static, in fact they case erase so stay off
    Cause nobody knows how it goes with the flows
    and rows of hoes froze, chosen bust erosion on the lows when
    The ill speak, plus the Liks knot thick
    Mad quick to rock ya lip, like hip-hop to grits

    But yo freak this, I come with uniqueness
    I'm like Pepe LePew yo, hoes are my weakness
    Back in high school you didn't think I could get nifty
    Now I'm on your magazine rack down at Thrifty
    Since eighty-three I been housin folks
    All the way from Orange Country out to Thousand Oaks
    It ain't a, nother rapper in the country who can crunch me
    If you don't believe me, run up and try to punch me

    I flip the funk like Monk, Higgins when I'm diggin
    I'm swiggin on a Snapple cause my crew be wicked when we gig it
    I rock the mad vocab, when my toe jabs I'm so bad
    I make you flow bad, like when I blow lads to pieces

    Verse Three: Tash
    No releases on the two steel wheels
    Comes the lyrical skills that kills more ducks than oils spills
    My niggaz run for the hills, I can track em through the mountains
    Rico kick that kind of shit that got more bounce than Roger Troutman
    So passs the weed to the top top seed
    With lyrics as deadly as the VD's that make ya lungs bleed
    Plus I dig like coal miners through the crates of old timers
    I be blowin up the spot like dynamite with one-liners
    Oh reminde,r to my ex-bitch when I find ya
    I'ma smack you for them times I had to start sixty-nine
    Yes on the low, my nigga with the hat to the back
    Get on the mic and show these niggaz where you at

    Verse Four: Wild Child

    Here I am doing shows, wall to wall
    Nate stacks tall I still won't fall
    Never will I be sellout poverty, some don't believe in me
    Still I get my verbs on, my verse on, I raps long
    You're dead wrong, all in all should say the sale starts
    when A&R says go, you start with the dope verse
    and you're sold, now you're on clearance when the record starts sellin
    But I'm not willin, to be uncovered from the depths of the under
    I'm under, for the duration
    The past present future revelation
    I gain the trunks of those who comprehend
    Because the know I send niggaz through the other end
    Of this industry, commercial side envies me
    Females are freakin me, no time for em
    At least not yet, just a few that I will call bitch
    I'm not a player, strict rhyme sayer, say your prayers
    Now I lay me down to sleep
    Don't sleep, I'm on the creep
    To invade the holes of the ill-minded
    I find it's fat, rewind it back slack, not here boy
    Wack to the skull-crack when I attack
    Unleasing crazy chaos you're way off, so stay off
    I'm about to blast off

    Outro:

    J-Ro - Word is bond! On this snoop babe, that's how we do it
    (YouknowhatI'msayin?) And that's how we do it, on KLI, K
    What is this? KLIX? Oh yeah
    Where we at again?
    Ah it don't matter, we rock it for the whole world anyway

    Tash - Yo we gotta give a shout out, a shout out
    J-Ro - Can we give a shout out?
    E-Swift - I'd like to give a shout out to everybody that's listening
    to this radio station right now, I hope you got your tapes
    on record cause you know we just flippin
    J-Ro - Everybody that's down with real hip-hop
    West coast East coast North and South

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