Mr. Muthafuckin eXquire – The Last Huzzah (Remix) Lyrics
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Breast milk.. you made my day..
Know we had to do a remix right? Take that, take that!
Drunk driving on a Wednesday
With three bitches in an MPV
Half a gallon of Georgie Porgie
And cranberry: that's the P.O.P
Love passion, a [recipe](undefined) for terror
We mix them shits together, and then we having orgies
We here, this life forever
We never gonna stop, you with us, lemme hear you scream
[Verse 1: Despot]
One vodka soda poured over 4-leaf clovers
He be the luckiest fuck this side of the rainbow you know of
You seen the blood and the guts and the gang signs get thrown up
He seen the fight and the fuss for that same pot of gold
But he hold the dice and he roll em and if he lose, it's a hold up
Plus got them sticks and them stones that'll bust up them little bones up
Won't switch his picture it's for no more, bitch, he a grown up
The kid I so-so but they didn't think he would show up
Slow up, happy to be here, muster up 3 cheers!
Hip hip, who are you? Here, here
Huzzah sis-boombah, queue the fanfare
Go fetch the man of the year, a goddamn chair
He's half there, the other half willy-nilly
Plus gonna hit the town, cocked back, slappin it silly
Don't beat him while he down off whatever his favorite swill be
I ain't a killa but don't kill me (huzzah)!
[Verse 2: Kool A.D.]
Beer and whiskey shots, weirder than 50
Pac, Biggie, or Ricky Ross, I'm Jiggy, I'm Vicky Vasquez
Don't love the game, shot clocking above the game
Ballers and shotcallers be callin me Bob Costas
I'm Immortal Technique: I'm Obnoxious
Hella-people telling me to stop it
Probably be jealous cause we sell it at a profit
Keenan and Kellin' it and it's awesome?
I'm Nas man, I'm God's Son, nah dunn, I'm on One
I'm dumb, I don't got guns dude
But let's battle and see who sons who
I'm reading Sun-Tzu, translating Don Killuminati into Spanish
Wrapping my body in bandages
[Verse 3: Heems]
Drunk driving on a Wednesday, all my friends be rapping
They always be writing, wake up tomorrow, like "what happened?"
The verse done, and it's always aiite tho
Ayo, Michael Jackson is Monty Python
All of y'all pricks can suck my dick
I'm stupid as shit, but I'm 'bout to be rich
I'm at the Pizza Hut, I'm at the Taco Bell
The combination made my eyes bleed
It's serving and swerving the nervous MC
I'll rap on the track if my friends let me
You guys aiite, but I ain't tryna have an orgy
The Jameson, the ginger ale, occasionally the Georgi
The Popov, the Dubra, all of that shit
Proper and super, they falling back quick
I got three shirts and they all look expensive
2000 Volkswagen mad old and dented
Skateboard P, Ashanti: foolish
The worst rapper on this track, 3rd coolest
[Verse 4: Danny Brown]
Straight shots of Cuervo, blunts to the neck
Got a rap bitch that smoke blacks until the plastic melt
My legacy is shining like a diamond on a tanning bed
Climbing on you niggas, put the iron to your head
Instead, you niggas tryna get ahead
Like a stray bullet, you niggas mislead
I'm about my bread, you ain't, you can roll
Try and stop that, get a bagel-sized hole
Cause it a' been nice, heat the house, use a stove
Took a cold bath to walk to school in the snow
Now I take it back, when these niggas was fronting
Now I got something, they ain't worried about nothing, nigga
Me and my niggas about to take the world over
Me and my niggas about to take the world over
Rolling out a onion, blunts Paul Bunyan
Onion booty bitch crying, deep throating something
[Verse 5: El-P]
Straight shots of the sterno plus, wick stuck in the bottle empty
3 blocks to the target we light it and lob it hard at sentry
4 pigs of the oinking variety guard the market entry
5 minutes of flames and then aim the whistle my father lent me
6 o'clock we meet up and divvy the shells among the youngins
7 continents in the shit and smoke like it's fuckin London
Just before they ate up the funds our harmony love was bumpin
Our goverment issue 9's and point 'em where your blood is pumpin
Ten(d) to mop up these muttering zombies talker pieces
El'll ven(t) on you harder than Fukashima breezes
In the end when a dozen or so ajourn to reason
You'll find the verdict return corrupted in murderous seasons
With inverted 31's and other unlucky omens
Thats why I chug 7 and 7's 'til I'm fuckin homeless
And every time you think my 15 minutes of fame are up
I'll spit another 16 to prove to the world I fuckin own it
[Verse 6: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Damn it feel good to see people up on it
Couple thousand views on Youtube a nigga still hungry
No food in my stomach and my pockets fucked up
Plus my mother still work so why should I give a fuck?
Fuck a blog, fuck a label, fuck a meeting, fuck an A&R
Fuck a co-sign, mothafucka fuck it all
Still lost as Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye
Skull fuck her, smut, nuttin' try to catch her in the eye
Big belly still take my shirt off like Nelly
Rasta pasta for footprints buy liquor out the deli and shit
My pops negligence done made me rebellious
Arrested Development the rest is irrelevant
Fuck a throne watch the project bench covered in pigeon shit
This for my nigga Los 'til we see him again
Stretch a nigga like a regular tee from the outlet
Hidin my rhyme book from the grammar talk clerics
Mishka bear, obnoxious as Roger Klotz
I plot as the clock tick tocks to make the world suck my cock
Validated in every wrong decision I ever did
My ex girlfriend thought I wouldn’t ever be shit
Well looky here bitch my dick grew 6 inches since then
Will I make it out the projects? I guess it depends, huzzah, bitch!
Know we had to do a remix right? Take that, take that!
Drunk driving on a Wednesday
With three bitches in an MPV
Half a gallon of Georgie Porgie
And cranberry: that's the P.O.P
Love passion, a [recipe](undefined) for terror
We mix them shits together, and then we having orgies
We here, this life forever
We never gonna stop, you with us, lemme hear you scream
[Verse 1: Despot]
One vodka soda poured over 4-leaf clovers
He be the luckiest fuck this side of the rainbow you know of
You seen the blood and the guts and the gang signs get thrown up
He seen the fight and the fuss for that same pot of gold
But he hold the dice and he roll em and if he lose, it's a hold up
Plus got them sticks and them stones that'll bust up them little bones up
Won't switch his picture it's for no more, bitch, he a grown up
The kid I so-so but they didn't think he would show up
Slow up, happy to be here, muster up 3 cheers!
Hip hip, who are you? Here, here
Huzzah sis-boombah, queue the fanfare
Go fetch the man of the year, a goddamn chair
He's half there, the other half willy-nilly
Plus gonna hit the town, cocked back, slappin it silly
Don't beat him while he down off whatever his favorite swill be
I ain't a killa but don't kill me (huzzah)!
[Verse 2: Kool A.D.]
Beer and whiskey shots, weirder than 50
Pac, Biggie, or Ricky Ross, I'm Jiggy, I'm Vicky Vasquez
Don't love the game, shot clocking above the game
Ballers and shotcallers be callin me Bob Costas
I'm Immortal Technique: I'm Obnoxious
Hella-people telling me to stop it
Probably be jealous cause we sell it at a profit
Keenan and Kellin' it and it's awesome?
I'm Nas man, I'm God's Son, nah dunn, I'm on One
I'm dumb, I don't got guns dude
But let's battle and see who sons who
I'm reading Sun-Tzu, translating Don Killuminati into Spanish
Wrapping my body in bandages
[Verse 3: Heems]
Drunk driving on a Wednesday, all my friends be rapping
They always be writing, wake up tomorrow, like "what happened?"
The verse done, and it's always aiite tho
Ayo, Michael Jackson is Monty Python
All of y'all pricks can suck my dick
I'm stupid as shit, but I'm 'bout to be rich
I'm at the Pizza Hut, I'm at the Taco Bell
The combination made my eyes bleed
It's serving and swerving the nervous MC
I'll rap on the track if my friends let me
You guys aiite, but I ain't tryna have an orgy
The Jameson, the ginger ale, occasionally the Georgi
The Popov, the Dubra, all of that shit
Proper and super, they falling back quick
I got three shirts and they all look expensive
2000 Volkswagen mad old and dented
Skateboard P, Ashanti: foolish
The worst rapper on this track, 3rd coolest
[Verse 4: Danny Brown]
Straight shots of Cuervo, blunts to the neck
Got a rap bitch that smoke blacks until the plastic melt
My legacy is shining like a diamond on a tanning bed
Climbing on you niggas, put the iron to your head
Instead, you niggas tryna get ahead
Like a stray bullet, you niggas mislead
I'm about my bread, you ain't, you can roll
Try and stop that, get a bagel-sized hole
Cause it a' been nice, heat the house, use a stove
Took a cold bath to walk to school in the snow
Now I take it back, when these niggas was fronting
Now I got something, they ain't worried about nothing, nigga
Me and my niggas about to take the world over
Me and my niggas about to take the world over
Rolling out a onion, blunts Paul Bunyan
Onion booty bitch crying, deep throating something
[Verse 5: El-P]
Straight shots of the sterno plus, wick stuck in the bottle empty
3 blocks to the target we light it and lob it hard at sentry
4 pigs of the oinking variety guard the market entry
5 minutes of flames and then aim the whistle my father lent me
6 o'clock we meet up and divvy the shells among the youngins
7 continents in the shit and smoke like it's fuckin London
Just before they ate up the funds our harmony love was bumpin
Our goverment issue 9's and point 'em where your blood is pumpin
Ten(d) to mop up these muttering zombies talker pieces
El'll ven(t) on you harder than Fukashima breezes
In the end when a dozen or so ajourn to reason
You'll find the verdict return corrupted in murderous seasons
With inverted 31's and other unlucky omens
Thats why I chug 7 and 7's 'til I'm fuckin homeless
And every time you think my 15 minutes of fame are up
I'll spit another 16 to prove to the world I fuckin own it
[Verse 6: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Damn it feel good to see people up on it
Couple thousand views on Youtube a nigga still hungry
No food in my stomach and my pockets fucked up
Plus my mother still work so why should I give a fuck?
Fuck a blog, fuck a label, fuck a meeting, fuck an A&R
Fuck a co-sign, mothafucka fuck it all
Still lost as Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye
Skull fuck her, smut, nuttin' try to catch her in the eye
Big belly still take my shirt off like Nelly
Rasta pasta for footprints buy liquor out the deli and shit
My pops negligence done made me rebellious
Arrested Development the rest is irrelevant
Fuck a throne watch the project bench covered in pigeon shit
This for my nigga Los 'til we see him again
Stretch a nigga like a regular tee from the outlet
Hidin my rhyme book from the grammar talk clerics
Mishka bear, obnoxious as Roger Klotz
I plot as the clock tick tocks to make the world suck my cock
Validated in every wrong decision I ever did
My ex girlfriend thought I wouldn’t ever be shit
Well looky here bitch my dick grew 6 inches since then
Will I make it out the projects? I guess it depends, huzzah, bitch!
