Let It Out - Tha Alkaholiks: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Let It Out

3,114

Hip-Hop/Rap

Let It Out was released on February 28, 1995 by RCA Records Label as a part of the album Coast II Coast

Song Details

AlbumCoast II Coast

Release DateFebruary 28, 1995

LabelRCA Records Label

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM93

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Tha Alkaholiks

Vocals

E-Swift

Scratches

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Rex Smith

Composer

James Anthony Robinson

James Anthony Robinson

Composer

Eric Brooks

Composer

Joseph L. Kirkland

Joseph L. Kirkland

Composer

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

E-Swift

Mixing Engineer

Diamond D

Producer

Steve Fred "40 to The Head" Fredrickson

Steve Fred "40 to The Head" Fredrickson

Engineer

Bob Morse

Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

That's Tha Alkaholiks functions (Conjunction junction)

("Anything you could do, I can do fresher...")

It's the remix, brothers

And for all the brothers out there that got shit on they chest they just wanna let out...

Anything you could do, I could do fresher

When I'm on the microphone, I rock the shit without no pressure

'Cause I snuck my 40 ouncer past the bouncer with the stun gun

I gots to get some lyrics off my chest, so let me run one

'Cause who's bad? Not Michael Jackson when I asked him

I even rock the mic for seven days with Toni Braxton

It's Tha Liks, rockin' like a 6 point 6

So while I be scoopin' bitches, you rush the porno flicks

For reals, I gots more skills than an occupation center

I got your ho cookin' my dinner

Action, lights, and cameras ain't needed

Indeed, it's – the **** that be gettin' rappers heated

I'm J-Ro, and my style is darker than a mole

My rhyme is so hot you got to stop, drop, and roll

All Tha Liks releases – become masterpieces

Oh Jesus, my style is slick like pork grease is

And I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta let it all out (I gotta let it all out)

They'll say, I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta let it all out (I gotta let it all out)

They'll say, I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta let it all out (I gotta let it all out)

They'll say, I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta, I gotta let it all out

I get in 'em when I sin 'em, the Alkaholik venom

I'll fold your clothes with your body still in 'em

The rhymes I got, hit like Ronnie Lott

The only way you take my spot is with a shot

I grab rappers by the hand and make sure they understand

That they can't scrape J-Ro the man

A **** who stays – in the old school ways

And just like sun rays, I can make your days

We got more soul than James Brown in platform Adidas

The Likwit Crew – comin' new like a fetus

So run, tell your granny, your pops, and your girl

**** like me gonna rule the world

So all aboard the J-Ro train to FunkyTown

Express from the West, so it's best that I clown

I bust the Alizé on ice, on down to Beck's brew

I got more fame than Dana Dane, I hold mics like Donahue

'Cause I'm committed, admit it, you was 2 Legit 2 Quit it

Dancin' with toilets, now you can't get busy with it

With the vintage Olde Gold gettin' dusty in my cellar

I throw my shit deeper than Jeff Hostetler

So yo, what you got? 'Cause god DAMN it's hot

It's the Alkaholik rhymer up in your night spot

So ease up off my line, and let me rhyme

I'll lose you like that jewelry that that bitch can't find

On BET, and yo, it'll take a secret psychic

'Cause even in the future I'ma freak it when I mic it

And I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta let it all out (I gotta let it all out)

They'll say, I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta let it all out (I gotta let it all out)

They'll say, I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta let it all out (I gotta let it all out)

They'll say, I can't hold it in (I can't hold it in)

I gotta, I gotta let it all out

With flows rough enough to cut ya, beats enough to touch ya

Known to rock the cordless with the Likwit rhyme structures

It's the man with vocal tones that hurt words to broken bones

I got flows throughout my body, deep-rooted like kidney stones

So tap into the cold, while I torch MC's

'Cause I be "Itchin' For A Scratch," like the Force M.D.'s

But yo, fuck that – Tash is in the wind with the gin

I gotta pass the mic to J, 'cause he can't hold it in

I can't hold it in, my friend – Tha Liks get the most clout

We be scorin' points like Michael Irvin on the post route

And just like Troy, boy – I'll make your bones ache, man

Just how much punishment can a rapper take, man?

The homes be like "Where you been?" – man, I been creatin'

We had you salivatin' like the dogs that be waitin'

For the Kibbles 'n' Bits, I love pits, tits, and rap hits

And Bruce Lee flicks, and clockin' yapes with Tha Liks

I can't hold it in, I gotta speak my mind

There's a lotta half-ass **** thinkin' they can rhyme

But their style is not "butter," it's more like "butta" without the "A"

You never think of nothin' fresh to say

The freshest DJ from the state of Ohio

I remember winning battles, cuttin' up "Survival"

Nots to be fucked with, used to brag and boast

Packed up my Technics, now I'm on the West Coast

Now I –

Damn, we gotta get that shit off our chest, ****

Yo, before we get up out –

I wanna shout it out to my ****, Diamond D

Written by: Eric Brooks, James Anthony Robinson, Joseph L. Kirkland, Rex Smith

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