[spoken]
Alcohol beverage companies have aimed an inordinate amount of advertising at Blacks. Billboards in inner cities, ads in hip-hop magazines. Ads on television.

One million bottlebags count 'em
Think they can bounce the ounce and it get 'em
Blacks spend 288 million
Sittin' there waitin' for the fizz
And don't know what the fuck it is
Oh lemme tell you 'bout shorty
He about seventeen lookin' like forty
Treats his 40 dog better than his G
When he gets a big B-O-T-T-L-E
Oh he loves the liquor
But look watch shorty get sicker year after year
While he's thinkin' it's beer
But it's not but he got it in his gut
So what the fuck (Yo G what's up!)
Now he's hostile to a brother lookin' out
But I ain't mad I know what he about
He's just a slave to the bottle and the can
Cause that's his man, the malt liquor man

One million bottle bags!
(What the hell is they drinking?!)
One million bottle bags!
(What the hell is they drinking?!)
One million bottle bags!
(What the hell is they drinking?!)
One million bottle bags!
(What the hell is they drinking?!)
One million bottle bags!
(What the hell is they drinking?!)
One million bottle bags!
(What the hell is they drinking?!)

One million bags count 'em all
Other man gets happy, watch the killas drink 8 ball
Don't know a damn thing but his breath stinkin'
Then I ask a question, yo brother, what the fuck is you drinkin'
He don't know but it flow out the bottle in a cup
He call it gettin' fucked up like we ain't fucked up already
See the man they call Crazy Eddie
Liquor man with the bottle in his hand
He give the liquor man ten to begin
Wit' no change and he run to get his brains rearranged
Serve it to the home they're able to do without a table
Beside what's inside ain't on the label
They drink it thinkin' it's good
But they don't sell that shit in the white neighborhood
Exposin' the plan, they get mad at me
I understand, they're slaves to the liquor man

Back to my homeboy shorty
He can drink it down and think nothin' about it
Pass it around and get the 40 dog buzz
At the same time Shorty can't remember what day it was
Say I'm yellin' is fact, genocide kickin' in yo back
How many times have you seen a black fight a black
After drinkin' down a bottle or a malt liquor six-pack

Malt liquor bull
What it is is bullshit Colt 45 another gun to the brain
Who's sellin' us pain in the hood another up to no good
Plan that's designed by the other man
But who drink it like water
On and on until the stores reorder it
Brothers cry broke but they still affordin' it
Sippin' it lickin' it drink it down, oh nooo!
Drinkin' poison but they don't know
It used to be wine, a dollar and a dime
Same man, drink in another time
They could be hard as hell and don't give a damn
But still be a sucker to the liquor man Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind