Intro: Tash Yes yes yes yes yes yeah-he-ha-ha-ha! Back to drown ya'll motherf**az! Who we got, we got, we got We got the Liks, we got the Liks, we got the Liks Cause MC's in ninety-five, MC's in ninety-five MC's in ninety-five that think they rock like MC's in ninety-five, MC's in ninety-five MC's in ninety-five that swear they rock live Verse One: MC's in ninety-five they need way more rehearsin They write they booty kyrics then they add they little curse in YOu're not a true hip-hop person Spend a little time with your rhymes and quit makin wack versions I send this sh** out to all them n***as from that group With the ninety minute demo sounding just like Snoop You better bizzay, your a** up out my rhyme zone Fore I leave you on the ground broke up like pine cones You're rootin and tootin but ain't did no shootin While the freshest hip-hop, it curses verses like a wicked witch Disaster, co*k the rhyme flows back to k** To get me out your system takes more than Golden Seal Cause I bust so many flows I gotta file my sh** in columns While MC's be goin down like Olympiads that slalom, rock-bottom I got em, left without no watchers While I be housin n***as like they put up for adoption I rock loaded, I never get promoted But through the bullsh** my crew stays devoted While you be bustin lyrics bout the guns y'all n***as toted I'll be standin like a b-boy with both arms folded But no exucses, I still get the loosest When RIco's in the house tryin to grab the mic and juice this So back the f** up like we told you last time Cause it's the Liks in the house with the ninety-five rhymes Chorus: Repeat 4X We can do out thing (we can do our thing), bottoms up! Verse Two: J-Ro I wake up, k** a roach, call the homies, hit some weights Reminesce about the shows we did in fourty-eight states Banned in the rest, but we was on tour with who De La, and Quest, we made the crowd say yes (yes) Now it's like f**, Make Room, move your a** out my way Bay-bee, bay-bee WIth all these hoes around clwon, why you wanna bang? Let's have a celebration like Kool and the Gang I bring it all the way back, like a punk return I rock some spots and call more shots than Chick Hearns The only MC I like is Amante I was drinkin Asti Spumante wit cha auntie Bust them lyrics shots from the AKG When it comes to style and finesse, I'm the epitome Hit a beat, make em all retire, flyer Higher than a jet, like Stet I'm on fire Causin pain like a runaway train you don't stop Drop the track, now watch it flow back to the top I'm the J-R-O, not J-E-R-U And you know what we came to do, bottoms up! Chorus Verse Three: King Tee When you hear screams, that means King Tee walked in The advertisement, and that n***a's bent Raise up off the wall, b**hes Last Call Ready for the ruckus, pushin motherf**ers off the stage Teela's got a brand new gauge So Make Room, for the crew with beats that I got a complex I guess I bust best with stress A mess, don't bring that sh** to the West, cause Uhhh, I bring drama, like Jeffery Dahmer Choppin up MC's with they mama Ah-hah! Oops I made a funny with the dozens The one-est, who busts rough rhymes for the cousins Super n***a's comin! Faster than a bullet Leapin over buildings, wavin at the children And don't even trip cause the Alkaholiks funk don't cease Tash I'm up out this piece Chorus (repeat until fades)