B to the Izza-A, T to the C-H, Fo’ shizzle my nizzle beer dribbles down ya face. B to the Izz-A, T to the C-H, that’s the anthem get’cha damn hands up. B to the Izz-A, T to the C-H, hops filled me y’all go to feel me. B to the Izz-A, T to the C-H, that’s the anthem we feelin’ real handsome. Holla at us, we do this for lacto culture. This is what New England sour look like. This beer be damn fine, like Da Vinci sculpture. 10kg dry hop, shockwave from a tastebud rupture. Vic got a secret, he shady, takin’ over the Galaxy. Raise your glass baby, we hustlin’ every day see. Super fly, super tasty, flavour rich like gold dust. Go on take a sip, resistance is hopeless. If you havin’ problems we feel bad for you son. 99 problems, good beer ain’t one.
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