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)
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