Yo, check this shit out



Hangin out in bars can become no joke

When you start to drinkin gin rum bacardi and coke

Or Martini and Rossi, Asti Spumante

Even forties being shared throughout the posse

Jukebox is slamming throughout the bright moon

With the melody, of a soft Barry White tune

I sit back, like I got it made in the shade

Holding my dick as I talk to the barmaid

Excuse me miss, "Alright here I come

May I help you?" Yeah, double shot of rum

"On the rocks sir?" Mm-mmm, not at all

Who the fucks need ice inside of burning alcohol

I reach in my pockets to tip the whore

But I'm clumsy, my change start falling on the floor

I play macho, and say leave it for the sweeper

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP my fucking beeper

I start stumbling to the phone booth

Revealing all symptoms of drinking ninety proof

The phone booth door is closed, the light is on

The girlie just dialed nine-seven-zero porn

She sit back, with her legs cocked in the air

While her fingers do the walking through her knotty pubic hair

Her eyes are shut tight, she moans and groan

I hit the glass, "Get the fuck off the phone!"

She jumped up and said, "You just had to be the one

to interrupt me when I was having so much fun"

I said, "Hold up, yo, bitch you think it's cute

To be perverted let alone a sleazy prostitute"

She said, "How can you try to disrespect any female

Or me and my homegirls just because we sell"

I said, "Pussy? That's what you call it?"

She screamed out, "You're god damn right you alcoholic!"

She said, "This is a public phone and you do not run it"

I said, "So is your pussy but can I use it when I want it?"



Stay out of bars (2X)



I was in Times Square, loungin hard

Me and the Prince Rakeem, you know the God

Watchin females posin for a flick

Thinking of who would be the first to turn a trick

"Yo Genius you see that?" "Yeah" "So what you think?"

"Let's swing em to the nearest spot to have a drink"

I winked at one she said, "Hi" in a low pitch

Rakeem started flowing and bagged the other hoe bitch

Now we searchin for a zebra lounge

to settle down, right in the heart of midtown

Went to this place, called the Sting Pit

Got inside and seen all types of shit

Men who looked soft but acting wild

Dancing to the beat, Ten City style

Females who wore jeans that were tight

With faces resembling transvestites

Everyone in the bar gave my girlies mean looks

As if they were fugitive crooks

They smiled at me and the God, showin all thirty-two

That's when I caught the clue

As this red-bone, who thought she looked fly

Rolled up on me, and she said "Hi"

That one little word fucked up the whole night

Her voice was deeper, than Barry White

I jumped up, and boy did I flip

I pull out a nine and I empty the clip

The place was flowin with crazy blood

A little midtown massacre type flood

And as we stepped off from the scene

Here's the message I got from Rakeem

Stay out of bars (4X)