The Last Huzzah (Remix)

[Intro: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Aight, I'ma do a 40
[*clink*], [*clink*], [*clink*], [*clink*]
Breastmilk, you made my day
You know we had to do a remix, right?
Take that, take that
Hahahaha
Ugh, ugh
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh

[Chorus: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Drunk driving on a Wednesday
With three bitches in the MPV
Half a gallon of Georgi Porgie
And cranberry: that's the P.O.P. (Pillow of passion)
A recipe for terror, we mix them shits together
And then we have an orgy
We live this life forever, we never gonna stop
You with us, lemme hear you scream (Huzzah!)

[Verse 1: Despot]
One vodka soda poured over four-leaf clovers
He be the luckiest fuck this side of the rainbow you know of
He 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 them thin brittle bones up
Won’t switch his pitch or his tone up for no one, bitch, he a grown up
The kid is so "So what?", they didn't think he would show up
Slow up, happy to be here
Muster up three cheers: "Hip-hip, who are you? Hear, hear"
Huzzah, sis-boom-bah, cue the fanfare
Go fetch the man of the year a goddamn chair
He's half there, ditched the other half willy-nilly
Buss how he hit the town, cocked back, slapping it silly
Don't beat him while he down off whatever his favorite swill be
I ain't a killer, but don't kill me (Huzzah!)

[Verse 2: Kool A.D.]
Beer and whiskey shots (Shots), weirder than 50, Pac
Biggie, or Ricky Ross (Rappers), I'm Jiggy, I'm Vicky Vasquez (Vasquiez)
Don't love the game, shot clocking above the game (Nope)
Ballers and shot callers be calling me Bob Costas (Sports)
I'm Immortal Technique: I'm obnoxious
Hella people telling me to stop it
Probably, they be jealous 'cause we sell it at a profit
Kenan and Kel-ing 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 (Huzzah!)

[Verse 3: Heems]
Drunk driving on a Wednesday (Wednesday)
All my friends be rapping (Rapping)
They always be writing (Writing)
Wake up tomorrow like, "What happened?" (What happened?)
The verse done, and it's always aight, tho
Ayo, Michael Jackson is Monty Python (What?)
All of y'all pricks can suck my dick (Dick!)
I'm stupid as shit, but I'm 'bout to be rich (Rich!)
I'm at the Pizza Hut, I'm at the Taco Bell
The combination made my eyes bleed (See what I did I there?)
It's Herman, I'm swerving, the nervous MC
I'll rap on the track if my friends let me (Thank you, friends!)
You guys aight, but I ain't tryna have an orgy (Nothing personal!)
The Jameson, the ginger ale, occasionally, the Georgi (I'm off it!)
The Popov, the Dubra, all of that shit (All of it!)
Proper and super, they falling back quick (Quick)
I got three shirts, and they all look expensive (Two of 'em do!)
2000 Volkswagen, mad old and dented
Skateboard P,, Ashanti, foolish (Foolish!)
The worst rapper on this track, third coolest (Huzzah!)

[Verse 4: Danny Brown]
(Exquire, what up, nigga?)
Straight shots of Cuervo, blunts to the neck
Got a rat bitch that smoke blacks until the plastic melt (Step!)
My legacy is shining like a diamond on a tanning bed
Climbing on you niggas, put the iron to your head (Blaow!)
Instead, you niggas tryin' to get ahead ('Head)
Like a stray bullet, you niggas misled (Lead)
I'm about my bread; you ain't, you can roll (Roll)
Try and stop that, get a bagel-sized hole (Go!)
'Cause it-a been nights, heat the house, use a stove (Ugh)
Took a cold bath to walk to school in the snow (Ugh)
Now, I take it back (Back), when these niggas was fronting (Fronting)
Now, I got something, ain't worried about nothing, nigga
Me and my niggas about to take the world over (Take the world over)
Me and my niggas about to take the world over (Step!)
Rolling out a onion (Step!), blunts Paul Bunyan
Onion booty bitch crying, deepthroating something (Huzzah!)

[Verse 5: El-P]
Straight shots of Sterno, wick stuck in the bottle empty
(Three) Blocks to the target; we lit it and lobbed it hard at Sentry
(Four) Pigs of the oinking variety guard the market entry
(Five) Minutes of flames and then aim the whistle my father lent me
(Six o'clock) We meet up and divvy the shells among the young'uns
Seven continents in the shit and smoke like it's fucking London
Before they ate up the funds, our harmony love was bumping
Now, the government issue nines are pointed where your blood is pumping
Tend to mop up these muttering zombie talking pieces
El'll vent on you harder than Fukushima breezes
In the end, when a dozen or so adjourn to reason
You'll find the verdict return corrupted in murderous seasons
With inverted 31s and other unlucky omens
That's why I chug 7&7s 'til I'm fucking homeless
And every time you think my fifteen minutes of fame are up
I'll spit another sixteen to prove to the world I fucking own it (Yeah)

[Verse 6: Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire]
Damn, it feel good to see people up on it (Ugh)
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 a A&R
Fuck a cosign, motherfucker, fuck it all
Still lost as Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the Rye
Skullfuck her, smut, nut and try to catch her in the eye
Big belly, still take my shirt off like Nelly
Rasta Pasta from Footprints, buy liquor out the deli and shit
My pops' negligence done made me rebellious
Arrested development, the rest is irrelevant
Fuck the throne—watch the project bench covered in pigeon shit
This for my nigga Los 'til we see him again (Free Los)
Stretch a nigga like a regular tee from the outlet
Hiding my rhymebook from the Grammaton Clerics
Mishka bear, knots 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 six inches since then
Will I make it out the projects? I guess it depends
Huzzah, bitch!