[Intro/Chorus: E-Swift]
Welcome to the next level
The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh
[Verse One: J-Ro]
You's a n***a everybody diss cause you can't bust this
You got a bad name like Dick bu*t-kiss
Welcome to the next level, of rhyme flowin
Scratchin', hookin' up beats, and ho-catchin'
Everytime I come home, I got fifty messages
I only call back the girls with big big breasteses
Ooh, I got bitties, in all the major cities
The safest way to have s** is right between her (tittes)
I beeped this fillie from Philly, we was puffin on a phillie
She started actin silly, so I popped her like a willie
I'm like Cucamonga, I'm way out
And you know I got the flow that'll never play out
I was raised in Cali just like a palm tree
I rock the mic from London to the Mojave
Tash, Diamond D, and the Ro to the J
Amazing feats happen when we come out to play
[Chorus]
Welcome to the next level
The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh
[Verse Two: Diamond D]
Out the funk bag of tricks
Just for kicks, I represent with the Liks
So here's the fix, I'm hittin harder than a brick
Tricks get slick, and face the dick real quick
You better recognize, adjust your bifocals
Your style is local, I sit on beach in Acupulco
I put words together like Peter Jennings
And skate on motherf**ers like Peggy Fleming
So woe to those who owe
From 10456 to 90210
I'm sippin' on pina colada
Two blocks off La Cienega, at the Ramada
But hold up, I'm not done yet
I get hard like the perms pimps wear on Sunset
So recoginize when you feel it
D.I.T.C., you can't steal it, aight
[Chorus]
[Tash] My men, my men
Welcome to the next level
The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh
[Verse Three: Tash, E-Swift]
For all my n***as in the places with blunts in they faces
Off the two turntables with the Anvil cases
It's the L-I-K's that blaze and amaze that
[Gots to roll deep] in these crazy-a** days
But the Alkaholik rhymer, King Tee and Diamond D
Got the gats pointed at ya like Richard Roundtree
Cause nineteen ninety-four is the year we overdo it
With the house party beats and flowin' like fluid
Cause ain't nothin' too but to do that sh** and print it
But it's all about the loot so every move is documented
And vented, by the man born for lyric kickin'
Coolin' out with your b**h eatin sweet-and-sour chicken
Exceeding Visa limits if the tab's on you
I get drunk and reminesce about the sh** I used to do
We used to take out crews as a hobby, after two in the lobby
Me, Mike D, and my beatbox Robby
Sendin' kids back to the lab for more practice
The only way they'd win, if we battled to see who's the wackest
Ten years later, still a hip-hop slave
A prehistoric b-boy makin' beats in my cave
The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh
It's the liquid flows that we spillin' on ya
Broadcastin' live from Southern California, and we out
[Chorus]
Welcome to the next level
The L-I-K-S, what makes them motherf**ers so damn fresh