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Verse One: J-Ro
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I'm the beer rational outta national
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My cash flow is thick like mashed potato-oes in the gravy
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Wsup wavy, thanks to my homey King Tee-la
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the host wit the most, Im coast to coast like Aunt Peela
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the Cowboys beat the Steelers so nigga where's my $50
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boom bap to your cap if your eyes is lookin shiftee
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In this game of rappin your ass will never win
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and let you play b-b rickers wit Quik, Suge and Mack 10
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who need to come join these words like conjunction
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a friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions
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when I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin it
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You comin up empty like your Mother Hubbard's cabinet
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Cause you keep comin wit rhymes guns so deeply
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Example is the school of mankind niggaz so peep me
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you Range-Rovin, Tommy Hil and bustin glocks
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while I'm in the studio bustin lyrics in my socks
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and the A-C is broken, no jokin
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we got the worm witout the coke-in
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the fuckin DAT machine is smokin
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The pizza still aint here, we out of beer
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and I think this motherfuckin engineer is a queer
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and my dip is blowin up my hip whats up honey
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(eh J-Ro the land lord really wants his money)
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AWW shit
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Chorus
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Contents under pressure, contents under pressure
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I hope for the best and expect the worst
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get stress off my chest everytime I bust a verse
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Verse Two: Tash
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Ain't no describin
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the way that Tash be feelin when he's vibin
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be feelin like a deadly secret agent on assignment
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dont fuck wit microfilms, I want the microphones and tables
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that some niggaz stole while I was at a meeting wit my label
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cuz Tash will rock your cradle wit the fatal rhymes that pound
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put you down cuz your lyrics suck more than Divine Brown
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while Im off that Royal Crown gettin party at the Atmospheric
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wit the 40's and the Hennesy to get yall in the spirit
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so bounce to the lyrics of the noble Likwit warrior
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get the stress out or try to maintain like X and Gloria
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poundin your surroundin stuffin at you from the Liks
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styles harder to decode than grafitti on the bricks
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so read my tag and weep, while I drive you off the deep
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wit the Alkie style that rock you and made Quantum wanna leap
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cuz Tash in the streets plays for keeps on micros
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its the never ending quest for west coast rap titles
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Chorus
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Verse Three: J-Ro, E-Swift, Tash
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Yo I walk in the place, kicks un-laced
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wit a bitter beer face, (a 40?) naw a whole case
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wit flows like these, we not your average MC's
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we be the drunken masters of ceremonies
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these rappers come out hard then turn fake like rayon
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put I choose to stick to the streets like a crayon
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in order to go pop, we'd have to stop comin fresher
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Contents under pressure....
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And there ain't no tellin when we bout to explode
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like tall cans in the freezer when they get too cold
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we gotta title to hold, west coast ghetto gold
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more than half a million know these beats got soul
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we still under pressure, thats my motivation
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to let this drunk technique leak thru out the nation
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Im stressed out, for weeks wit no sleep
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and no roll in the studio cuz I know this shits gotta blow
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When you see me on the mic we go buck for buck
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We only battle decent niggaz, so be glad y'all suck
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Cause if I take ten steps and turn around I'll destroy ya
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Cause my style be up in niggaz like I'm Oscar De La Hoya
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The crew you got before ya, Tash the top gunner
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so try to stay on float while the current pulls you under
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Cause read what it stands fool, like on the bulletin
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wit skills they couldnt teach your ass at Cal State Fulleton
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I'm in the zone like the Bulls at home
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wit mad stains on my shirt from all the beer and foam
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Cause the crew wit all the brew, buries squads like treasures
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Wit the Hennessee and Coke tryin to deal wit life's pressure
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Contents Unda Pressure
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| Tha Alkaholiks |
