12 Shots (feat. Nate Augustus) - Diabolic, Nate Augustus

Yo,

Woke up early on my born day, 28 ain’t a blessin' though,

My bills are stacked up high and my funds are gettin' low,

I’m set to go up-to this shit-hole local bar,

So I can get some peace, plus they don’t over-charge,

Order my first shot I’m sittin' there all alone,

Some piss warm Cuervo coz' I can’t afford Patrone,

They say I crossed the line coz' I don’t need no salt or lime,

And I smell the liquor before I take it all the time,

Got problems on my mind, some I can’t handle,

Time for shot number two, gimmie' some Jack Daniels,

It’s how I cope, pressure hits, I go get a brew,

And after two honestly I’m in a better mood,

Round three I got that Jameson’s Irish whiskey,

Then I put it back and yeah I’m feelin' kinda tipsy,

This busty bar tender lookin' better by the minute,

A few more and I gotta say I’d slide up in it,

So I’m like «yo, come here miss, be friends with me»,

Then shots four and five are double-fisted Hennessy,

I should let it be, I’m gettin' rowdy poppin' shit,

Time for number six, but wait yo, I gotta piss.

Took a leak, took my seat, now I’m tryna flirt,

But the Henny’s repeatin' on my every time I burp,

Then the bitch told me six she was buying back,

I said surprise me, big surprise, another shot of yak,

I’m far too proud to cry, and refuse to taste my pride,

Everyday’s the same so I drink to hide the pain inside,

So it comes to pass my time, when I breakdown and say goodbye,

I begin to close my eyes, hide the pain inside.

Now it’s eleven on the dot and I want my seventh shot,

Some ice cold Jägermeister would just hit the spot,

Threw it down and said «yo bartender do a round»,

I think that was eight, I’m drunk so I’m losing count,

Vision kinda spinnin' but still I want another,

Now the bitch looks like Vida and I wanna' fuck her,

I called her over but god-damn my mouth was slurrin',

So I was like fuck it, «just bring me out some Bourbon»,

Took my ninth and looked at life in another light,

I went from happy too «Imma' start a fuckin' fight!»,

Thoughts were runnin' like «I hate myself nowadays»,

I’m really broke and my seeds a thousand miles away,

Baby mama always gotta bring that same drama,

«Yo bartender bring me back a shot of straight Vodka»,

That’s number ten but at this point does it matter?,

I’m half a father, half a sucker, half a fuckin' rapper,

Half-assed and half the time I’m just a drunken bastard,

Who smokes so many cigarettes I got a touch of asthma,

Ordered my eleventh E&J.

and with the quickness,

Took it and told the bitch «I'll be back in twenty minutes»,

I went outside, threw some punches and hit the wall,

Knuckles bleedin', screaming till I trip and fall,

I ain’t got shit at all, and I don’t even love myself,

Fuck it, I ain’t going back in, here’s number twelve: *gun shot*

I’m far too proud to cry, and refuse to taste my pride,

Everyday’s the same so I drink to hide the pain inside,

So it comes to pass my time, when I breakdown and say goodbye,

I begin to close my eyes, hide the pain inside.