When I’m feeling cheap I get a bottle of Jim Beam for mixed drinks
But when I’m pretending to be a king
I’ll get some Eagle or Knob Creek and sip that shit neat

Cause I’m a man, yeah, I’m a classy man
If it’s bourbon I’ll have whatever you pass me, fam
Makers Mark, Old Crow, Basil Hayden
Four Roses, Woodford, Bulleit, it’s all the same shit

No it isn’t but I’ll still happily have it
If you only got some plastic bottle Black Velvet cat piss
Long as Rocom keeps them drums slapping
I’ma keep it sick as Santino catching a whiff of Captain

Egad man, this shit is hella dope
I’m leaving MCs in need of prosthetics like Chips D’elano
With colorful shoes and three inch lifts
My favorite MC’s from Prim and his name’s Chank Smith

Quick, Hollywood, make a movie about me
You could even get Byron Kallic to play me
Except he’s too old, and I’m too young
And I’m hotter than roofing out in the noon-day sun

So just stop y’all, call the cops y’all
I get it poppin' like a mutha-fuckin' pop tart
Shouts to the man with the Cheeto colored hair
It’s the Whisky Ginger podcast, baby- yehhhh