Tekster: Louis Logic. Blame It On The Hooch. I-Jonez Exclusive.

[Louis Logic:]
Uh, yeah, yeah, come on, come on, yeah, yeah
Now when the I-Jonez kids rang on my phone with
A request for me to craft a suicide poem quick
I told 'em I don't spit without an ice cold six
But fuck the yellow suds cause I don't like no piss
I need a dark brew like Jeff Gordon need a car crew
One lap in the sack and I can see your part two (too)
It's hard to imagine a drunk, smart Lou
Who doesn't want brew and says he's givin' up hard booze
This new philosophy sticks to the prophesy
Six stupid mockeries give you lobotomies
He's gotta be an inhuman oddity to get the kind of chedda you
Would win through the lottery
And spend it on liquor and sex so give 'em respect
For settin' records when his liver is wet
Cause if it isn't a check than give 'em a set of
Slippery breasts he can suckle like an infant again
I'm a baby, because I always get my way
And I see crazy, 'cause I always forget my place
I'm in the women's rest room with a test tube
Standin' right next to one of the stars
For her sample when she gets through it
I'm in a wedge here with a flask of piss
After this, simply so you catch the gist
And you can tell me how one of them bashful chicks
Felt when R. Kelly sprayed 'em with his splash of wizz
I got {Skills} only if you mean that I'm I'll
There's patients in the psychiatric ward missin' they pills
{Skills} Put piss in your grill from AIDS patients
Cause it gives me a thrill to ask 'em how the waste tasted
Some of you may hate this, others who will chill
It still doesn't stop me from givin' 'em I'll {Skills} Yeah!
This is Louis Logic, the Drunken Dragon baby
And I'm chillin' with my peoples from I-Jonez
You know what I'm sayin?
If you ain't gettin' the news, then you ain't in the know
I got my man J.J. Brown on the boards
Puttin' them sounds into my ears
And we about to lace you up somethin' nice
Like a fresh pair of sneaks, son, boom