[CHORUS]
Alcoholism [8x]
[E-40]
Pull this bitch over my nigga
I got to piss
I stay with sip in my fist
I drink like a fish
Sometimes I be sober
But most times I be blitzed
I'm having my gouda
My nigga all on her bitch
We ball like we hoopers
My nigga we hood rich
We winning not losing
My fella we got chips
I keep me a steak, a pistol, a grip four 5th
Cuz I'd rather be judged by 12 then to be carried by 6
Don't wanna be carried by 6
Rather be judged by 12
Suckas be all in my mix
Cuz I be up in their gal
Don't know how to rewrite spell
I can add and count skrill
I can sell a rocks to a cliff
I can sell oil to a well
Yay area reppin
Don't need no swagger injection
Big oceans 11
Hustling & money collecting
I'm shattered
I'm blundered mane
I been chiefing that feda
The po po's they tripping mane
They sobriety checking
[CHORUS]
Alcoholism [16x]
[E-40]
The fur fur is crazy
I have me a "desi"
A designated driver
A rider
We in it heavy
We knocking 40 Water
He foolish the boy gone
That's all they played was his music when I was in a group home
bout to go slap some bones
Shoot some dominoes with my fellas
Get on that patron
called Stella Ella and Della
10 to get on the board
I'm fresh off the top
If I skunk you my ninja
You gotta drink two shots
Or we can play for some fedi
Or we can play for pushups
Or we can put on the gloves
Go from the shoulders & box
After that we can hug & get a room & get props
All my fellas is thugs, ballheads & dreadlocks
Right after the function, they continue to get bent
Last weekend it was smacking
My nigga that shit went
I left outta there with not one but two women
I guess you can blame it mane on that alcoholism
[CHORUS]
Alcoholism [16x]
[B-LEGIT]
1300 block ready rock animal
Sitting in the coupe
Orange like cantaloupe
Something on the mantel fold
Gears in the rear
Old English Beer makes it hard to steer
Been getting fucked up since 9th 10 grade
Bird & grape kool aid and Ace of Spades
I swerved and I do thangs i dance in the rain
And I guess this the money we gave to champagne
I pulled in the lot
Bullets in the glock
Hot or not we like to shoot shots
Stop where I'm hot and I like to drink shots
And I'm gone off the Julio at the 20th & what not
You can say what you say
Imma paper boy
Little waves up top
With the table boy
She be playing hard to get
But you can make them boy
Put some drink in her cup and watch her swish it up
[CHORUS]

[Louis Logic:]
Jay Love
Louis Logic
Odd Couple
(Porque?)
Call me Felix Hunger, starving artist at-large
Independent entrepreneur, the hardest to rob
Hardest to dodge, till I'm offered a job
So call off your guard
I'm tryna get this loot and buy cars for my squad
We far from the odd, we're a couple of nuts
Cuddlin' sluts, puffin a Dutch and clutchin' up cups
Filled with nothin' but suds so top off the shot glass
I got hash, it top class, I copped it just as a cop passed
I stopped fast, thought about it then I broke north
Slid up to the crib and took my coat off
Took a toke off the chalice in the Odd Couple palace
Thanks to Alice my hands don't have a single callous
I think my style is different from the rest
I'm a spit it for a test and put the critics to a rest
So get it when I'm vexed or else catch when it drops
Either way you'll be like, "No question, it's hot"
I'm the best on the block but understand I live on it
Spit on it, and pay respect to those who been on it
Gin tonic, tonic meet gin, this is my chronic friend
Now that you're introduced we can begin
I spin around like a record until I get dizzy
Black out, stumble up to the mirror and scream, "Who is he? "
I'm busy in the bathroom reminiscin' of last June
I keep talking with' you, but I think I'm gonna crash soon
[Chorus:]
[J-Love:] Why they rockin' ice?
[Louis Logic:] Why they not rockin' mics?
[J-Love:] Why do hip-hop shows turn into boxin' fights?
[Louis Logic:] Why do girls front on you unless you're pocket's right?
[J-Love:] Why 'd I spend my last buck to tip a topless dyke?
[Louis Logic:] Why do heads gotta like
[J-Love:] Shit that's wack?
[Louis Logic:] Matter of fact
[J-Love:] Why they treat hip-hop like it's just rap?
[Louis Logic:] Why do street niggas front aristocrat? You'll get dissed for that
[J-Love:] Why do they get away with murder on tracks like diplomats?
[Louis Logic:]
Before my track is mastered, the sound'll shake the foundations
Crack the plaster, sandstone and alabaster
To knock the fragile rafters from an oak wood roof
'Til the smoke protrudes from the soundproof vocal booth
Truth in the form of a musical song
Is like beautiful porn stars in chewable thongs
Cause heads get off to this, then we send 'em away
With their jaws hanging down like dentist offices
(Porque?)
Sick, demented sorcerers weavin' a spell
Change water to brew, and tobacco to weed in a L
Change a faucet to a beer tap, and fill a Hefty cinch sack
With trees until it's stretched to thin straps
Who got a problem with a bottomless beer
That could make a pessimist smile and an optimist tear?
I'm probably severe as pourin' some scotch in a beer
'Til I'm wobbly and weird
Shit, I hope a hospital's near
'Fore I OD on Old E, and stop my career
Hallucinate, and see little green monsters appear
I run with irresponsible peers, underfunded
Without jobs, living with moms, sleepin' in bunk beds
Drug heads whose lives is unkempt
That never get up from bed before sunset
We're still catchin' dumb heads who try to front fresh
When you're just half of what you could be like a chick with' one breast
[Chorus]