|
Intro:
|
|
From city to city, coast II coast
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
(We came, to rock, for everybody)
|
From city to city, coast II coast
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
From city to city, coast II coast (all night y'all)
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
|
Verse One: Tash
|
|
(From city to city, coast II coast)
|
I make rappers see more stars than Space Ghost
|
Cause my fiver I kick lyrics make em sound like [walkie talkies]
|
So the poet cracks the Moet while they drink the Old Milwaukee
|
Off the hook with (droppin visions) so the Leo of the trio
|
(Without the sexy voice) scoops more hoes than Theo
|
So I dedicate this rap to all my ghetto spokesmodels
|
Dressin like y'all paid, redeemin Coke bottles
|
So nod to the oddness as the story gets told
|
While I burn these MC's like Rotisierrie Gold
|
Cause you know the reputation of the L-I-K-Ses
|
The crew that wets you with they beer until somebody undresses
|
I bust my shit and peel! Grab my wheels of steel
|
If y'all niggaz can't feel me than y'all niggaz ain't real
|
I hit so hard the WBC
|
Called to ask me could the champ come and train with me
|
Cause my liquidatin flows transpose on niggaroles
|
Individuals, close they eyes, cause I blurred they visuals
|
And I'm about to be as large as Houdini in a minute
|
(Now the party didn't start) Till the Liks walked in it
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
From city to city, coast II coast
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
All night y'all (city to city) all night y'all
|
When the Liks is (coast II coast) in the house get hype y'all
|
|
From city to city, coast II coast
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
All night y'all (city to city) all night y'all
|
(from coast II coast) The Liks is in the house to make it right y'all
|
|
Verse Two: J-Ro
|
|
Yeah... check out my Ro-gram
|
Since I was a kid I got darker
|
I write rhymes so phat I need a marker
|
My style gets bit like Peter Parker
|
If imitation is the greatest form of flattery...
|
...punk don't flatter me
|
I slam you like a pogue on my dog with no fleas and ticks
|
Chicks love them light-skinned rap niggaz called the Liks
|
Youse a wizard, with no tricks, the J-R-O got the spells
|
You never even heard Rock the Bells
|
My cash flows, like a bloody nose
|
It stains all your clothes, and your pill-ows
|
I come from the home of the Rodney King beatin
|
Pacoma CA, Riff Rack is where I'm eatin
|
Your style is like *do Do DOO* out of service
|
The Liks walk in the jam the punk MC's be gettin nervous
|
I never take falls, I got more balls than pre-hauls
|
I flow without flaws to scrape all you sucka paws
|
Never ever find the fool that stole my brew
|
(I'ma do mean, terrible, nasty things to you)
|
Don't lose me, I make a rude bwoy say excuse me
|
If you choose the real shit you can't refuse me
|
Ask your grandpap I bust the dandy rap
|
I be posted in the bar like Andy Capp
|
And I, could, just, go, all, the, way
|
On Friday
|
|
Interlude:
|
|
Yo whassup baby!!!
|
Yo wasn't that your nigga there performin?
|
Nah nah that wasn't him
|
Yo it was mad niggaz in that piece yo
|
What? What was they mad about?
|
...Yo kid
|
Kid?!! I'm old enough to be your uncle, heh
|
Anyway, where the BUD at?
|
Sorry we do not drink!
|
What the hell you talkin bout we don't drink
|
I mean the chronic
|
Oh you wanna smoke a L or sumthin?
|
An L? Fuck is that?
|
Man, word
|
Nathin
|
Who the fuck is Nate, tell him
|
It's Iesha, Farrah, and Kath true...
|
|
Chorus:
|
|
From city to city, coast II coast
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
And there's so many niggaz on the planet left to rock yo
|
don't be surprised when we rappin on your block
|
|
From city to city, coast II coast
|
Friday night is the night they like to party the most
|
To all the hoses and all the third-leggers
|
We comin old school like biscuits and Kreggers
|
|
Verse Three: J-Ro, E-Swift, Tash
|
|
Yo, first they didn't know me now the hoes be on my Moby
|
But I'm just a nigga kickin me shit like Reggie Roby
|
My name ain't Toby call me J-to the
|
Talk on my cellular telly g |