Get Throw’d (feat. 816 Boyz)

8-1-6 Boyz
Ain't we sick boy
Kali Baby... Get 'em daddy
I came here pretty big night
I can't remember it
I'm drunk my breath is all one
I might need a dinner mint
A couple of strong ones and then a couple of shots
I'm getting all one, ok
I never take the wrong one can make anything I can pull
I'll take a tall one, Ok
Make my drink too big to hold and make it pretty cold and
I'm too drunk to even speak nigga ass is pretty show'd
If I could just be off my seat and I getting mold
And drink you under the table Im talkin bout
Pop-a-pop-a-pop-a sip hit the floor
Ima turn it up and make it gold
Go many, go many, go many, go many
Ima have a heart attack (x8)
Makzilla... Talk to 'em
I'm Desi den sober sin
Fellas leavin' cups of lean
Celebratin' soups of through cups of lou
Whatcha waitin' on? Get your drink on
Everyone in 816 knows not into a friend
Of a ten of a ten of a ten so unattractive
My crew consist of 816as who take that slang
And add some liquor make her chug-a-lug
Till she starts to hiccup a thing for good
A think clone tatted up real thick and wild so
Lets make like a realas burnt thing zillas
Kutt Kalhoun soo woo... Kutty Go ahead
YEAH... BLACK GOLD sick'em
Kutt the room bottle service
Mister melvadear im the worst
When it comes to touchin' my lips with liquor
I do to fifths what I do to verses, Kill them
Nigga might lose his shirt, 'cause im too beserk when im jagar bombin'
I feel it, right up your hoochies skirt cause this erk the jerk is
My fame, my mind, and I drop my draws and get naked
Just my hat and tat to my necklace
Soft as molly what you expected drunk like 40 bins and Im wreckless
If you born to party I'm the wildest one in my clique when it comes to drinkin' man
Its's breaking news when I'm pervy call me Ron Burgundy cause I'm the anchorman
4 hoursemen im drinkin
Jack Daniels (yeah?), Johnnie Walker(yeah?), Jim Beam (what?)
Jose Cuervo (huh?!)
throwin ups what im thinkin
At about 7 of those
Level a bro, wakin up sick is inevitable, head on the flo where it keep me!
That'll get me throwin up that neeses
, or a beef on bun on bread with a B.B.!
I get so throw'd I mess around and wake up off in Mexico!
So drunk that the killa cartel put the chainsaw down then accept a bro!
So drunk on a hella late night I stumbled into Texaco!
Askin for lexapro!



Credits
Writer(s): Krizz Kaliko
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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