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drank a yak, smoke a sack - dj squeeky lyrics

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[chorus: 8ball & mjg]
drink a yak, smoke a sack
kick back like a fat mack
drink a yak, smoke a sack
kick back like a fat mack
drink a yak, smoke a sack
kick back like a fat mack
and let, and let, and let and let the chicken mess up your memory
drink a yak, smoke a sack
kick back like a fat mack
and let, and let, and let, and let, and let
and let the chicken mess up your memory
drink a yak, smoke a sack
kick back like a fat mack
and let, and let, and let, and let the chicken mess up your memory
drink a yak, smoke a sack
kick back like a fat mack
and let, and let, and let, and let, and lеt
and let the chicken mеss up your memory

[verse 1: lil sko]
ridin’ in the chevy with the buick hubcaps
rollin’ up some blunts with the a/c on full max
stop at the corner store to get a pint of gin and juice
got a book of 1.5’s, and a twelve pack of brew
now we scopin’, and now we hopin’
we see some females, ’cause i can spit so much game, to hit your mama tail
so peace, chief, and let the food stamps stack
so kick back, relax, and drink a yak or smoke a sack
[verse 2: mr. n*gga]
mr. n*gga’s on the motherf*ckin’ track
i’m smokin’ a blunt, a half a ounce, a fifth of yak
a/c blowin’, i’m scopin’ for the hoes
triple motion on my chevy
gold bones with the f*ckin’ vogues
this sh*t is fire, you see, i’m high
i can’t deny, oh my, oh my
oh why, oh why, should i be like this?
i campaign and i relax
but that’s the way it is
i drink a yak and smoke a sack

[verse 3: lil reggie]
i’m takin’ my chances by makin’ cheese on the cut
you know to see motherf*cker
peep b*tch, you know what’s up
i guess that life ain’t really nothin’ but a gamble
so don’t get yourself in somethin’ that yo’ ass can’t handle
’cause i’ma make a livin’ with my millimeter glock
and you need to watch your back
when you comin’ to my block
so i’ma leave it at that
while my pockets gettin’ fat
kick back like a mack
and drink a yak, and smoke a sack
[verse 4: tom skeemask]
now i’m blowin’, my n*gga, h*llified f*ckin’ shotgun
off this mack blunt, now your ass is gonna get stung
by this motherf*ckin’ pimpin’, i’m not slippin’ for this trick
b*tch, better get to them knees, and suck this f*ckin’ d*ck
drinkin’ the motherf*ckin’ yak, and you know i’m laid back
smokin’ up an ounce of bud
and my n*gga kinda just laid back
back to the liquor store for another f*ckin’ yak
blazin’ bud all night, and i’m smokin’ on the f*ckin’ sack

[verse 5: lil ced]
smoked outta my n*ggas room
it’s the full contact
burn the bud, then my n*gga that smoke
now check him for another sack
i pop ’em for the 10, half pop for the 20
rollin’ by the chevy quickly
until the chronic k!ll me
it’s 2 o’clock, i’m sippin’ the yak
now my ass is laid back
chiefin’ on the fattest mack
havin’ a major ink attack
got fifteen dollars in my pocket
that’s just sh*t to campaign off
smoke it here, spend it there
now, you know the sh*t is gone
the n*gga left the liquor store
with a half of pint of yak
now i’m finna hit my n*gga down for another sack
[verse 6: criminal manne]
smokin’ on a junt, with my n*ggas drinkin’ o.e
standin’ on the track, kickin’ back with the family
constantly blowin’ blunts
’cause us players all about the game
kickin’, i’m pimpin’ and sweatin’ these b*tches
n*gga, it’s the criminal manne
twenty*two deep, where we creep, but we still chill
when it’s time to scoop my b*tch
we chief a pound and vamp to the crib
ink attack, drink a yak, kick back like a mack
take your time, let’s get f*cked up, my n*gga
and smoke a sack

[verse 7: yo lynch]
i need a fat mac junt, i think i’m havin’ another ink attack
project playaz lookin’ for the indonesia chronic sack
bought a f*ckin’ o.z, so you know we super straight
l!ckity*stick that sh*t and watch me hit a great big junt of hay
pass me the fire, so i can light up a hype
and get real high
inhale thee shotgun to my nose
and now blow one in my eye
fell up in the liquor store
buzzin’ from smokin’ on the mac
what do i feel like drinkin’
mane, i’m thinkin’ “f*ck it, buy some yak”

[verse 8: lil syd]
hoes, i’m on the curb
take a swig, my nig, and pass it
high as a mof, from smokin’ that bud with the system blastin’
kickin’ up, pimpin’, and smokin’ some chicken
this sh*t i’m hittin’ is thunder
so pass the cigar paper, mane
it’s time to roll a blunt*ah
laughin’ and jokin’ and chokin’
from the liquor and the cognac
ridin’ through the town, scopin’ scowns
’cause we’re cool like that
player sh*t, thought you knew
keep on rolling dookie max
chillin’ like some villains
with the yak and the chronic sack

[verse 9: k!lla b]
rollin’ through the mound with a half a pint of yak
know that’s how it is, when a n*ggas livin’ phat
the motherf*ckin’ cap peelers back
spliffed out, chiefin’ indo
kickin’ sh*t, with my n*gga squeeky, like i did before
hard ass part 2, n*gga down with the crew
i got them thangs for a busta, trick, i thought you knew
but, uh, back to the subject
pass me the yak, some 1.5s, and the dub sack

[verse 10: mr. kilo g]
high as a motherf*cker, mane, wanna cap down
kickin’ it with my n*ggaro
stop off at the liquor store, get your yak, then we headed for the indo
b*tch, it’s kilo g, drop off the ki’s, ’cause i gotta have it
ain’t this a b*tch, ho, became a addict
’cause i need my dope and i ain’t got it
this bud keep me fiendin’, mane, just like a junkie
throat all dry but boogers in my nose
and my breath is gettin’ funky
can’t keep this godd*mn monkey off my back
so i’m forced to sweat the track
to drank some yak, and smoke a sack

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