Straight Outta Charleston

Recently, a firestorm of controversy erupted over a word that Food Network's Paula Deen uttered many years ago. I know you all have your opinions and maybe even some outrage about what transpired, but we at BC4M are the ones that probably need to take the blame for her indiscretion. You see, back then, Fred, Bim and J Wilder all lived in the quintessential southern town of Charleston, SC, living the craft beer dream in its infancy. It was a time when a Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat was as sought after as Heady Topper is today. To make money to buy a "make your own six pack" that the local Publix supermarket offered, we often played bar mitzvah's, weddings and bachelorette parties as the rap/dance group known as "C.W.A." It was one sultry August weekend that we were hired to be the live entertainment for an evening "soiree" that Paula hosted for a bunch of ladies who were anxious to throw down and get "jiggy" with it. Maybe it was too much plantation punch or maybe it was just the wet your blouse humidity, but that night, as we as we debuted our east coast reply to west coast gangstas N.W.A.'s "Straight Outta Compton", them bitches got up and made us blush like school boys. Paula was busting a move all over the floor, and it was then that she uttered her now infamous slur. She meant nothing by it, it was just her going with the flow of the evening, mainly due to our pantie throwing inducing stage show. It sucks that such a kind hearted gal got the cold hard shaft of liberal bias shoved up her backside, but we still dig her cooking. As an ode to her, we present to you the lyrics to our one time hit....hope you enjoy bitches...
                           

"Straight Outta Charleston"

Your about the witness the strength of beer knowledge

(VERSE ONE FRED FLINTSTONE)

Straight outta Charleston, crazy motherfucka named Flintstone

From the group called Cracka's with Attitude

When I'm logged on, I get my trades on

Pull the trigger and boxes are hauled off

You too playa, if ya trading wit me

Local beer stores wanna try and stop me

Fedex, that's how I am shipping out

To dope ass traders if they got the clout

Trader's get to yappin, lets get this crackin

Mixin and matchin I am the King of packin

Bottles going out wrapped in plastic

Anxious to get them, bitches be spastic

I'm always down for a 12 bottle trade move

Here's a little tip to teach a lesson

I'm the pimp of tradin, I aint messin

Beer Advocate is the tool

Keep taking punk ass noobs to school

Making them deals, ain't no maybes

Sending out shipping boxes daily

Fedex bill is costing me dearly

Until motherfuckers realize that clearly

BC4M is driving this bus

Punks, you cant fuck with us

So when I'm in your beer store you better duck

Cause Fred Flintstone is raining them bucks

As I leave believe I'm grabbing

Every fucking whale that you be stashing

I'm coming straight outta Charleston

Yo Bim, whassup, 

Tell em where you from

(VERSE 2  DR. BIM)

Straight outta Charleston, another crazy ass clown

Looking for mutts all across town

I'm a crazy motherfucka but you knew that

Pimpin your hood wearing my top hat

But I don't give a fuck, I'm ma make my rounds

I'm picking out canines from any old pound

Just like stealing the definition is jackin

And when I mount you dog, its called packin

All it takes is a couple of minutes

I find your dog unleashed, I get up on it

So if your outta town or not home

Imma make a house call on your ho

She'll probably run away like a dog is supposed to

But I'll just follow, I am not opposed to

Chasing a bitch down the street

Morality fuck! I don't give a shit

Dr Bim controls the antibiotic

For any rabid dog, that causes static

Telling your dog to not lick itself

Everytime I grab a milkbone off the shelf

The penalty is maximum, that's the law

But I don't give a fuck, like you just saw

See cuz I am an animal loving villain

After I'm done, I need some penicillin

To take away the doggy flu

And once she's on the menu, her ass is through

Look you might think I'm being flip

But a clown named Bim ain't putting in just the tip

Straight outta Charleston

Johnny is his name and he's coming...

(VERSE 3 Johnny Wilder)

Straight outta Charleston

is a brother that will smother ya sofa

when I end up staying ova

Drinking all night raising hell

Always the last one to leave without fail

See, I don't wanna stop, I got a problem

Find any open bottles, I don't dodge them

Cuz I'm smooth, sit back, and sip awhile

And when I see something barrel aged, I just smile

To me its kinda funny, watching bitches be drivin

All over creation, sometimes even flyin

Looking for the one they call Johnny

Blowing up my phone while they text me

Dangerous!, on my skateboard after dark

Rollin in my hood, ain't no hesitation

I'll even take a piss on your pretty impatiens

Expense report my tab then I'm jettin

Plastering BC4M stickers so you ain't forgettin

So what about the time I passed out, fuck that!

You think I care about spilling beer on your carpet, I ain't no punk ass

This is the autobiography of the J and when you bitches be ready to play

You'll be drinking with a smooth talking rapper, blowin up your pristine crapper

Word to the motherfucka, 

Straight outta Charleston