Tha Trifli

(really like to rock the funky beats) --> chuck d

[ verse 1 ]
The majestic great from the head to the toes
I ain't in a gang, i'm in my favorite clothes
But i can scrap with any enemies or foes
Cause i'm champion, just ask all my hoes
Please don't push, or you wish that you didn't
We're goin toe to toe, and it ain't no kickin
My moves are kinda slick and my punches be stickin
So put up your dukes, you little half-priced chicken
Don't brother-brother me, cause i ain't your kin
I'm aimin for the end, and i'm off that gin
Tee came to separate boys from the men
If i see another dance step, i'm shootin for the chin
I sag when i stroll, cause i'm known as a hood
I fuck real good, got trophies for the wood
Hub city hangin, i love shootin fakes
So bitch, make way for king tee tha great
Come on (say yeah)
(check it out y'all
You don't stop
Keep on) --> big daddy kane

[ verse 2 ]
Back on the block i got juice with the gees
I was writin rhymes while they picked up ki's
Yeah, i got homies that be throwin up b's
And i got family that be throwin up c's
But to the o.g.'s it's all about paper
Let's sling these birds and gangbang later
I gotta be the great, cause ain't nobody greater
A obvious rhyme would be e-swift is on the fader
Since i'm out west i bought a holster for my glock
Sittin on the roof [censored] at the muthafuckin cops
And the fuckin bitches that's burnin in a cock
And lord forbid, don't let me see my pops
Cause it'll be a buck-buck, and another buck-buck
I don't give a fuck, he left mom duke stuck
No remorse, cause i love shootin fakes
So run, nigga, run, here comes king tee tha great

[king tee]
Check this out
Hey, i knew this nigga named johnnie walker
A nightstalker, a big shit-talker
Even though he liked a lot of vodka (say what?)
He was from tennessee, sprung off hennessey
Makin enemies fast - in l.a.n. they didn't play (what?)
He got into a tanque/tangle with +ray+, he had on too much gray
Ray had a strawberry sister named daquiri
Johnnie politely her ass behind the back three
Now, all four uncles e&j wanna tossi
Martini and rossi had to get the niggaz off me
He got jacked for his dana's, in other words
(give it up nigga, give it up!)
He caught the nighttrain and blasted his thunderbird
With the pistol, him and cisco, couldn't stand him
Cause he caught him lickin brandy off his sister named kandi
At this point he had more bad luck than a trash truck
He lost his girl, remi spent his last buck up
Remi caught him shootin game at elayne, so now
Flowers and champagne don't mean a damn thang
Remi ended up runnin off with martin
He was wanted for arson for startin fires in carson
So johnnie hired a gun named rum, and paid him
151 and the job got done
With a thirty-eight straight to the face
He caught him in a six-pack and got they ass back
Up close he made 'em post and broke all their glasses
(?) and rum threatened their families with matches
He felt he needed more men just like gin
So he packed his strap and started claimin silver satin
From then on in, anybody caught bailin
Down seagram's 7 was bound to get sweated
Except bartyles and james, cause they was cool
He knew 'em from school when they didn't bang and made moves
Turns out, he never reached the top
They found his ass at the beach "on tha rox"

{*ocean, sound of seagulls, closing dj scratch*}

Intro:

Ladies and gentleman, that nigga king tee and the al-cum-a-holiks

Verse one: j-ro

Pooh-butts play the rear cause i'm makin yapes
The rhymes ain't no thicker than a, skittle grapes
A lot of girls would like to thank me, for the hanky-panky
On the mic i hold a belt, now i know no one could spank me
It took a long time for the people, to hear my rhymes
Seems like i been rappin since my birth in '69
Sorry to keep you waitin, i run rhymes like walter payton
I get a rhyme like spokes on a dayton
But i won't knock off, because i just rock off
The beats to get funky, like when you take your sock off
To all the white folks i would like to say howdy
And to all my brothers i say peace quit actin rowdy
Wack mcs in ninety-two, ew you need to take a rest
The public don't you aim the best you're softer than a hookers chest
Raps, i make em, snaps, i make em
For duties movin booties cause i shake shake shake em
And i got rhymes, funky funky rhymes
E-swift hold the needle down with nickels and dimes
I drink olde english, st. ide's and mickeys
When it's time to roll i throw on my black dickeys
On the mic i get wicked, like wilson pickett
I get the place jumpin like a cricket when i kick shit
I'm from the west coast but don't sleep home-stimpy
Even if i was a paperboy you still couldn't rip me
I walk up and chalk up pairs like the knicks
I'm all in the mix like snares, and kicks
When it comes to rhymes i get loose like belt buckles
Those who chose to oppose this nose is felt knuckles

(where you goin' to?) to the tip
(and what cha bout to do?) bout to rip
Some people use the word funky too loosely
And just how many rappers say they kick it like bruce lee
(what's your favorite brew?) olde e
(and what it make you do?) go pee
It used to be about rhymes, all about rhymes
Now rappers rearrangin, and changin like times
I got it bad y'all, i got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all
I got it bad y'all, i got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all

Verse two: e-swift

Back the fuck up, gimme room to breath
Not too many niggaz can flip the rhymes like these
I freak the technique as if it was a bitch
Got more soul than the pit with a fifth
Pitch the ball, so i can beat it with the bat
Talk some shit, so i can smoke ya with my gat
I'm feelin kind feelin kinda feelin kinda feelin kinda
Feelin kinda buzzed off a sack of chocolate tie
My my my ho, i like to rip the shows up
Smack the hoes that walk around with they nose up
Run to the liquor store, before they close up
Buy a few 40s, cause daily i get to' up
Sit at the crib and write riggy riggy rhymes
Line after line after liggy liggy line
Yo i can get funky, buy my tape and bump me
To the break of dawn i hit the bud and pass it on
Hangin at the park, shootin craps on the weekend
My brown bag is wet cause my tall can is leakin
Starin at the cops, beatin up on rodney
While a pack of o.g.'s steppin to me tryin to rob me
Just because i'm dope, niggaz wanna smoke me
On the mic i get funky while you're doin the hokey-pokey
Dance steps, i think that you should leave to paula
Alkaholiks is the shit, e-swift's the smooth bawler
Is slangin these rhymes like a rock
Life ain't shit but money and a glock
Don't punch a clock, but i cock a fat knot
So i can smoke a lot of pot that i roll up with tops
And ya ain't heard shit yet, i'm just gettin warm
Like hot butter on, say what?, the popcorn
I'm headed to the top, please give me my props
My beats are fat as fuck so bump my shit in your box
I love to hit the skinz, but then again who doesn't
I love to hit the herbs cause it leave me feelin buzzin
I dedicate this chumpie to the poets who can wreck
And to all the nottie dreads i gots to give them nuff respect

(where you goin' to?) to the tip
(and what cha bout to do?) bout to rip
Some people use the word funky too loosely
And just how many niggaz say they kick it like bruce lee
(what's your favorite brew?) olde e
(and what it make you do?) go pee
It used to be about rhymes, all about rhymes
Now rappers rearrangin, and changin like times
I got it bad y'all, i got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all
I got it bad y'all, i got it bad y'all
When it comes to the pen and the pad y'all

Verse three: king tee

Up jumps the man with the loot
Rockin like a troop with the alkaholik group
Everything is kosher, got a little taller
Livin kinda phat cause king tee's a bawler
I just, irritate the wack, leave em so confused
When i'm checkin on the mic with the ones and twos
Sneak you a peek of the drunk technique
Can't stand up, need to take a seat
Baby baby baby it's the alkaholiks
But i can freak the mic no matter how ya call it
Metaphors grand, and i'm the great man
Drink a whole fifth yes i can yes i can can
The girls call me dick-em-down
Got that title rockin for the crown
Catch y'all later, around next weekend
I'm a alkaholik and i'm late for my meeting

King tee:
I'm the man that'll bust dat ass, i'm the man that'll bust dat ass

J-ro:
Naw, i'm the man that'll bust dat ass, i'm the man that'll bust dat ass
(say what?!)

E-swift:
Naw nigga, i'm the man that'll bust dat ass, i'm the man that'll bust dat
Ass

Hook:
I'm the man that'll bust dat ass, i'm that man that'll bust dat ass

King tee talking:
Yo check this out. this is tha alkaholik crew. e-swift didn't they say it
Couldn't be done? they said king tee couldn't bring out the alkaholik crew
(but we doin' it). yo, it's the fresh shit. the dope shit for 1993. tha
Alkaholik crew. i'm gonna bust out like this, here we go, come on.

King tee:
Now bust it, i'm a try to freak it with the drums
Alkaholik funk, bass for the trunk
And i'm kinda crazy, stupid and hey i can do the nasty and drink like a
Sailor
I'm real smooth, free from germs
Even walk away when my homie smokin' sherm
Cause this is how i kick it, hoes got to lick it
It's tha alkaholiks and j-ro is wicked
E-swifts mad, cause he got it bad
King tees phat and i sport a blue rag
For the little whips and the honey dips
It's gang truece so i put away the clips
Baby baby baby i might flip
Got to get it on, let my backbone slip
If i fall back then give me some gas
If you try to play me i'll bust dat ass

Hook (x4)

J-ro:
Put the mic down clown, you can't get down
Jump around stage like your name was charlie brown
When the kid is played out your rap record is finished
Deminish, you couldn't come strong if you ate a gang of spinish
Popeye, you could never drop by, you can never stop by
Cause you can never top i
I got to hold back now i'm out before your turf
Because i want it all like the nigger greedy smurf
It's time to scoop the wack up, e-swift bring the track up (alright)
Punk you better pack up, cause the unit got my back up
You're a mic stand, got a steady woman
But i been in more sheets than the klu klux klan
I'm the j to the ro, and i want to make it clear
That you're rappin' like a queer so why don't you get on out of here
With the alley cat coat wearin' hush puppy shoes
? seen you with (punk you ain't shit!)
King tee and the liks blowin' up like gas
I bend your rhyme over, i bend your rhyme over
I bend your rhyme over, i bend your rhyme over
I bend your rhyme over, then i bust dat ass

Hook (x4)

Talking:
Tha alkaholiks, tha alkaholiks, i'm drunk, i'm drunk, tha alkaholiks.
Straight for 93. rippin' shit up. tha alkaholik , now you join e-swift

Hook

E-swift:
I fiend to get busy like a bee, check 1,2,3!
E-swift and tha alkaholik crew with king tee (baby)
Bangin' niggas out the box, drink my scotch on the rocks
And i'm makin' more hits than the motherfuckin' cops
I'm kickin' lines like tyson kickin' ass
Niggas can't laugh, i put your neck in a cast (whoa)
Yes, i"m the man with the skills to talk shit
And i'm back by the crew that none of y'all can get with
So back to the lab to fix your demo
Or get played like sega or nintendo
Simple as that, give me a beat that's phat
And watch a nigga jump on a motherfucker like cheese on a rat
It's strickly, dirty underground ass funk
That's busting out the weak 15's in your trunk
So don't be scared, be prepared when it hits
The average motherfucker can't hand with the liks

Hook (x4)

* this song was originally a st. ide's malt liquor commercial
It's appearance on promotional st. ide's mixtapes caused
Public outcry, and both the tape and the commercial were pulled

[king tee]

Now step up, to the king tee's beer stand
And let me know what beer is grand
No no wait, i got somebody that might convince ya
Hold up hold up wait

[ice cube]

Once again it's on, i'm goin out the front do'
Ice cube in the glass house, headed for the sto'
To get a beer that's better than the rest
The s-t-period-i-d-e-to-the-s
And it'll put hair on your chest
In the black can, so won'tcha grab a six pack and
Get your girl in the mood quicker
Get your jimmy thicker, with st. ide's malt liquor

[king tee]

Hold up hold up
So when you get a forty, roll to the spot
Hug and kiss your girl and screw the cap off the top
And get a taste of the beer that makes you tingle
And just remember that jingle

[singers]

Here's something that sweepin the nation by surprise
It's that fabulous malt liquor they call st. ide's

And that's how we do
Smokin em muthafuckas

No justice, no peace then, mr. policeman
Save a life for your kids and your wife
No more donuts and coffee
And i'll be back once i get off these concrete streets
Infrared scope and i'm mad as fuck
I'm on the roof tryin to duck from the pigs, cause they suck
Pick em all one by one, cause they all got a strap
Tryin to beat us with the stick and the gat
Lookin at the news and now i see pals
Carlton, koons, hearns comin up sooner than he thought
It might be at a stop light or maybe at the station
Either way it go, i'm stilll makin bacon
Stuff him with a apple in his mouth, make sure he's gaffled
Tie his ass up and bring him back to my castle
Throw him in the dungeon, leave his badge and his gun
In the car, turn it upside down, burn it up
And let it blaze, all i got left is one guage
I slung all the ones that i brung from the gun
Store, i gotta get at least three more
And i could give a fuck what you think i got em for

And all the king's hoes and all the king's men
Go try to put this shit black together again
Come on

12 whites on a black, what's next?
Pull a man out his truck and get stretched
I got a grudge with the judge
Cause he don't show no love for chocolate fudge
He only likes vanilla
But we do all the work like cinderella?
And i'll be damned if i get paid at a minimum wage
While they afford to eat like a smorgasbrod feast
And leave us here down in the dumps
The place where donald trump would get his ass jumped
Slavin at mickey d's for 4 bucks and a quarter
And can't afford a big mac with a soda
The biggest crooks, the biggest thugs there ever was
Was the ones that they vote for and hope for
Quicker than a zig-zag, they got big bags
Fill em to the ceilin, now who's doin the killin?
Then they point the finger at the young male black
Workin two jobs, so he gotta sell crack
So all the king's hoes and all the king's men
Go try to put this shit black together again
Come on

Let's do it like the wild wild west
Take off your holster and your gat and let's scrap
But porkey the pig don't wanna get em up
Unless you got your hands in some cuffs
Will i break the law if i break your jaw?
Turn around take two steps and draw
And make sure your plastic kill
Cause i came to get busy for real
So when you jump in my fo'
Make sure you slam the do'
And no bullshit on my flo'
Cause all the king's hoes and all the king's men
Help put this shit black together again
And i'm audi

I'ma bust it off like this for compton
Yo! whassup? yo.. what's happenin, what's happenin?
E-swift, you cuttin the records nice boy
Dj pooh whassup man? we all chillin
Yo, yo, j-ro's in the house, we all cold coolin out y'knahmsayin?
And i'ma bust it off like this for compton
Look who sprung up, comin the fuck up

I came in the place to let you know what's up
With a bunch of trunk jewerly
Two or three fat gold chains, ring plates with my name on 'em
Yeah i rhyme fly, real fly hobbes
I wear nike's cause i run from the cops
Pops taught me lots he said "toys are for tots"
At four, bought me a box, when i was six i wore a jock
Cause, my jimmy was gettin kinda big
At nine i was a kid but i took my first swig
Hugged that olde english beer
So my peers wouldn't think that i was queer
Yeah, right off i got the title of a gangsta
Pranksters run because they know that there ain't a
Person, runnin a verse on like this, hahahaha..
Whassup? this at your own risk, sucker

"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk! uhh!
"marley marl remix.." this at your own risk sucker!
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!

People always say, "are you the king of the west?"
But there's always some pest who try to put you to the test
Even though, they know i'm king, i'm on a higher level
I even dust the church and sold they soul to the devil
I mean really, how you think i'm livin?
On the strength i'm livin like thanksgiving
So yo, whassup turkey, tryin to jerk me?
Your rhymes don't work see, you can't hurt t
The almighty individual, you said you knew
But i don't think you really know about
The k-i-n-g super cool mack daddy
I drive a caddy, and i'm livin fatly
Had me on stage in a rage
Yellin was what ya know, that's how i get paid
Made my mark but rappers still insist, to diss
But yo it's at your own risk sucker

"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk! c'mon, sup?
"marley marl remix.." - "marley marl remix single of.."
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
Bust the break!

{*marley marl cuts and scratches*}

Verse three!
Is another one for those to remember
King tee is the champ, smashin all contenders
For those who disbelieve, just step in my direction
I'm snappin arms, legs and even necks and
Suckers who thrive to drive me crazy
You know the ones who front tryin to amaze me
Take it as a warnin cause i'm hopin that you don't diss
But get a load of this, it's at your own risk..
Sucker!

"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!

{*marley marl cuts and scratches*}

C'mon get funky, get, get funky
C'mon c'mon get funky
Ahh oh, ohh yeah get funky
Aww ooooooh shit! this at your own risk
(this at your own risk suckers)

"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
Yeah, e-swi..
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
Ahhh..
"this at your own risk.." this at your own risk!
Aww you're doggin it man
"this at your own risk.."
See-ya!

{*marley marl cuts and scratches to fade*}