One Million Bottle Bags

Album: Apocalypse 91… The Enemy Strikes Black (1991)
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  • One million bottle bags count 'em
    Think they can bounce the ounce
    And it get 'em
    Yo black spend two hundred and eighty eight million
    Sittin' there waitin' for the fizz
    And don't know what the fuck it is
    An oh lemme tell you 'bout shorty
    He about seventeen lookin' like forty
    Treats his forty dog better than his g
    When he gets a big b-o-t-t-l-e
    Oh he loves tha liquor
    But look watch shorty get sicker
    Year after year
    While he's thinkin' it's beer
    But it's not but he got it in his gut
    So what the fuck
    Yo niga what's up
    Now he's hostile to a brother lookin' out
    But I ain't mad I know what he about
    He's just a slave to the bottle and the can
    'Cause that's his man
    The malt liquor man
    One million bags count 'em all
    Other man gets happy
    Watch the killas drink eight ball
    Don't know a damn thing
    But his breath stinkin'
    Then I ask a question you brother
    What the fuck is you drinkin'
    He don't know but it flow
    Out the bottle in a cup
    He call it gettin' fucked up
    Like we ain't fucked up already
    See the man they call Crazy Eddie
    Liquor man with the bottle in his hand
    He give the liquor man ten to begin
    Wit' no change and he run
    To get his brains rearranged
    Serve it to the home they're able
    To do without a table
    Beside what's inside ain't on the label
    They drink it thinkin' it's good
    But they don't sell the shit in the white neighborhood
    Exposin' the plan they get mad at me I understand
    They're slaves to the liquor man
    Back to my homeboy shorty
    He can drink it down
    And think nothin' about it
    Pass it around and get tha forty dog buzz
    At the same time
    Shorty can't remember what day it was
    Say I'm yellin' is fact
    Genocide kickin' in yo back
    How many times have you seen
    A black fight a black
    After drinkin' down a bottle
    Or a malt liquor six-pack
    Malt liquor bull
    What it is is bullshit Colt
    45 another gun to the brain
    Who's sellin' us pain
    In the hood another up to no good
    Plan that's designed by the other man
    But who drink it like water
    One and on till the stores reorder it
    Brothers cry broke but they still affordin' it
    Sippin' it lick drink it down oh no
    Drinkin' poison but they don't know
    It used to be wine
    A dollar and a dime
    Same man, drink in another time
    They could be hard as hell and don't give a damn
    But still be a sucker to the liquor man Writer/s: Carlton Ridenhour, David L. Spradley, Garry Marshall Shider, Gary J. Rinaldo, George Jr. Clinton, James Henry Boxley III
    Publisher: REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Universal Music Publishing Group, Word Collections Publishing
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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