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Xzibit - Restless Album Lyrics



Xzibit - Restless Lyrics






Restless (Intro)

[Fans being asked about Xzibit & Interviewer]
Are you from L.A.? Yeah...
Xzibit is extraordinary...
I like his beats, he's cool...
I like him, I think he's good, I like the way he sings, his raps
I like Xzibit...
Lyric-wise? I gotta say Xzibit...
We wanna hear the new Xzibit... (Yeah)
Man, Xzibit is the realest...
"It's what you do is what you get now!"
Yo, son, that's tight
Lemme see my name...
Xzibit...
2000 style, we 'bout to blow this motherf*cka up for the real, west coast
Xzibit...
Xzibit? He's cool
I think he gon' go, he gon' go platinum
From the west? Well, I have to say Xzibit right now
Ummmm, from the West Coast only?
Xzibit, he's tight...
... From the West Coast? I like The Liks, The Alkaholiks is dope
Ah hell yeah, he's somethin', definitely 'bout to blow up a fat one too...
I don't know any of the names of his songs...
Uh, I like his stuff too, but I, I don't hear it in the club much
I think he's a hardcore rapper, you know what I'm sayin'? Knaimean, Down to earth kind of brother you know what I mean?
I'm thinkin' of buying it though 'cause my friend has it on MP3
We need people like Xzibit, and, uh
(The west is back...)
And, and, you know, Dre and them to come out here and do they stuff, but lyrically? I gotta say Xzibit

[Xzibit]
I said, where all my ladies at in the house?!
[Crowd screams]
Okay! Where all my niggas at in the house?!
[More cheering and screaming, horn blows]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Front 2 Back

[Xzibit - repeat 3X]
Oh no, let's get drunk and f*ck fo' sho'
Please stop runnin yo' mouth let's go
Actin like you've never seen a dick befo'
All these bitches in here

[Xzibit]
Will the real X to the Z please stand up?
With my niggaz and my guns, not givin a f*ck
Stickin 'em up at point blank range
They say the more things change, they stayin the same
I can't complain
Type of shit that make you wish you was dead
Make you bite the curb, a stomp down on the back of your head
Blow it out like a afro pick
Attract bitches like flies to shit
Pop pills and ride the dick
Niggaz can't swing this quick, I'm Dark McGwire
Bangin shit over the fence with Rottweiler
Listen, niggaz do anything for a dollar, even
killin they own, let it be known, it's like

[Chorus - repeat 2X]
It ain't safe where I'm from
Niggaz start beef never knowin the outcome
Rather be caught with it than caught without one
Leave it alone because the life that you save might be your own

[Xzibit]
I'm pullin pistols if you don't break bread
Mr. Wrong Side of the Bed, only get excited for head
Now print this in your industry books
If it wasn't for crooks you niggaz'd still sport the Jordache look
Hit the switch, front to back, side to side
Natural born killers never let shit slide
Never rely on the next man to swing for you
A rock and a hard place, duck between the two
And y'all bitches just somethin to do, don't get it twisted
You're easy like Sunday mornin and shopliftin
It go simple as that, I'm never givin half to a rat
I'd rather bam to your face with a bat
You get tied down to the tracks
Used to make a living cookin coke to crack, now I can't turn back
This is holocaust rap nigga, overreact
and I'ma bring to yo' chest like an asthma attack, ya heard?

[Chorus 1/2]

[Xzibit - repeat 2X]
Oh no, X get drunk and f*ck fo' sho'
Please stop runnin yo' mouth let's go
Actin like you've never seen a dick befo'
All these bitches in here
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALVIN JOINER, ALVIN N. JOINER, DANA STINSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.






Been a Long Time

[Saafir as radio host]
Rrrah, uhh, bitch!
It's radio radio station, cat Xzibit huh?
K-W-Balls, Daniel Thompson hold like this
Like that in fact, with a fat-ass Battlecat track
I'm takin caller number one, that is..
Rrrah uhh, bitch - you took too long
Caller number two like this..

[Xzibit]
[*BZZT*] Bounce up out of the house close to midnight
Full rack up in the back [*BZZ BZZ*] shit is tight
Full charge and I'm out for somethin
Mass production, Battlecat bang percussion
End of discussion, hittin some corners, rearrange thangs
and brang change, we expand California
Listen - I lost more than I can ever gain back
from this road to riches, makin my heart turn black
So I'm cold to bitches, and I never call back
Plus I'm stoned and vicious, lay your whole hood flat
Get your, shit together nigga Big Snoop Dogg told me
'Do music and leave that other shit alone homey'
We came from dust, the X-odus, the hard to touch
Y'all niggaz ain't f*ckin with us, and plus
it ain't nothin like standin on your own two
So run them streets, but never let 'em run you

[Chorus: Nate Dogg]
Time is steady wastin, steady wastin
Since time won't wait for me, yeah, won't wait, won't wait
Just give me a beat that's bang, give me a beat that's bangin
I'll bust 'til I'm deceased, yeah, wooo-oooh, ooh-ooh-ooooh

[Xzibit]
Tune in, witness the rise of a icon
The python wrap around 'til your breath gone
The upper echelon, and I'm the cat you pull a weapon on
and wanna squeeze 'til my life is gone?
Back to the wall and trust nobody
Sippin Cognac with Kurupt, Young Gotti
Somebody gotta recognize this
Throw fo' fingers up, add a thumb, then make it a fist
Number one draft pick, lead the league in assists
Give a f*ck how you decorate your neck and your wrists
You just settin yourself up for the twist (gimme that) it's like this
Only a few slide through like the Schindler's List
Who's the bitch, who's the mack, what's worse
the niggaz that bring in the coke or smoke the crack?
Metaphor figure four let it break your back (yeah)
It's been a long time, where the gangstas at?

[Chorus]

[Xzibit]
Damn it feels good to be back in the saddle
On top of the game, crackin the frame, the heat of the battle
Been a long time comin but we waited
Xzibit went from bein hated, to makin the whole world say it
Give a f*ck if the radio play it
Niggaz fall like the domino effect and you can't delay it
It ain't about who you are when you're makin your stack
It's the look that's on your face when you givin it back
So picture that

[Nate Dogg]
Time, keeps on slippin, slippin.. keeps on slippin away.. mm-hmm
My mind keeps on trippin, trippin.. trippin like ev-ery-day.. mm-hmm

[X] Yeah, it's been a long time

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: KEVIN GILLIAM, ALVIN N JOINER
Copyright: Lyrics © RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






U Know

[Xzibit]
Most niggaz get it confused right? Huh
They think it's all chronic and palm trees out this muh'f*cka
Bitches and bikinis, listen, huh

Some niggaz is better left alone
I place you underneath the very ground you walkin on
And ain't no children in this motherf*cker, drop your tone
Ain't got no business even F*CKIN with no microphones
So yo it's me against the world, and ain't got shit to lose
My heavy artillery built to make the masses move
I carry tools that'll pick you up and out your shoes
Xzibit bringin new meanin to alcohol abuse
I wanna fall up in the spot where all the bitches at
Holdin somethin heavy to help you straighten out your back
A couple of drinks and I bend you over the kitchen sink
So what you think I owe you somethin bitch for f*ckin me?
(BITCH) Get a grip, misery love company, check it
Xzibit show you the difference between real life and makin a record
Makin the moves and connections that you never expected
What good is money and the fame if you never respected?
Check it out

[Chorus]
You know, who's runnin these f*ckin streets
(You get involved, you gettin slapped with the heat nigga)
Don't be actin like your shit don't stink (c'mon)
Y'all ain't f*ckin with X
You know, we roll so f*ckin deep
(Yeah round after round in the middle of the street niggaz)
Cause you're actin like your shit don't stink

[Xzibit]
Yo, I ain't afraid of them f*ckin invisible gats
you always bringin out in your raps
My shit'll quickly make you fold and collapse
My goal to strictly takin over the map, by any means
Hustle and make more tracks than a her-on fiend
Keep my enemies on a first name basis
and hate them niggaz like a skinhead racist
Chuck Taylors and fat laces
Stompin hoes through y'all turf
I hurt worse than actual childbirth
A chick can suck my dick til the big squirt (AH-AHH!)
The song work, so ain't no playin wit us
Findin out where you rest your head and I'm sprayin it up
The remains that's left behind can probably fit in a cup
You pressin your luck, you makin yourselves easy to touch
I'm from the home of the hit 'em up, only two ways
You droppin some shells or you get 'em up, back in the days
there was a time there was this woman that I want to keep up
but nowadays when I see you I'm just tryin to f*ck
so check it out

[Chorus]
You know, who's runnin these f*ckin streets
(The king of these West coast gangsta beats, niggaz)
Always droppin off nothin but straight heat
so stay the f*ck out of the way
You know, we roll so f*ckin deep
(Round after round in the middle of the street niggaz)
Cause you're actin like your shit don't stink
Y'all ain't f*ckin with Dre

[Dr. Dre]
Thangs just ain't the same since he came out
Two thousand and one, came blew the game out
I heard you was hot {*huff*} blew your flame out
And got the nerve to believe you hold the same clout?
I thought I told you, keep my name out of your f*ckin mouth
(But Dr. Dre!) See that's exactly what I'm talkin bout
That shit right there, that's all day long
Just don't stop, I gots to be alone at the top
Forever ready loaded and locked, with niggaz that'll circle yo' block
and let 'em pop til some bodies get dropped
It's Doc Holiday in the flesh
(Still) hold it down, represent, resurrect the West
(Still) holdin ground, touchin down, with my nigga X
(Still) send a couple through yo' chest if you disrespect
Dr. Dre comin back (shit) I never left
The number one ranked highest paid celebrity guest
That's eight digits, motherf*ckers

[Chorus]
You know, who's runnin these f*ckin streets
(You get involved, you gettin slapped with the heat nigga)
Don't be actin like your shit don't stink (c'mon)
Y'all ain't f*ckin with X
You know, we roll so f*ckin deep
(Yeah round after round in the middle of the street niggaz)
Cause you're actin like your shit don't stink (YO)
Y'all ain't f*ckin with X
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, ALVIN JOINER, DOMINICK LAMB
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group






X

Yeah, ladies and gentleman
Broadcasting live to you and yours
It's Mr. X to the Z, Xzibit
Yeah, bounce it
Come on

The first day of the rest of my life
X stand behind the mic like Walker Kronkike
Y'all keep the spotlight
I'm keeping my rhymes tight
Lose sight of what you believe
And call it a night
This ain't the light-weight, cake mix shit
That you're used to
Teflon territory you just can't shoot through
You gon shoot who? (Who?)
Not even on your best day
Rollin' the Wild West way, givin' it up
Leavin' the whole world stuck not givin' a f*ck
Laid in the cut now we break through in the rut
Hennesy and Orange Juice baby fill up a cup
Quick to grab Mary Jane by the butt and squeeze
Loosen up, let your hair down, and join the festivities
Overcrowd the house like lockdown facilities
Bitches be quick to give me brains while I post the range
Going up and down my dick like the stock exchange

[1] - (X) Rearrange the whole game with my rugged sound
(X) Won't even say your own name when I come around
(X) Stay on top but remain from the underground
(X) to the Z and we all in the family

[Repeat 1]

Ever since Xzibit has spit, been on some pimp shit
Approach every woman like a potential mistress
Shine bright, make sure that X stay tight
Cause tonight I might meet my next X wife
Mr. Big Chief Reefa, Xzibit use his dick like a Visa
I run it through and money come out
Runnin' your mouth, I'll have somebody run in your house
Ravel your spouse and have a little fun on the couch
Now you know that it was bound to happen
I came to give you what you lackin'
Whenever you hear them other niggas rappin
Rockin' chains, stadium, paladiums, cracked craniums
My whole skeleton is dipped in titanium
Drop tops sittin' on twenties
Using rappers like crash test dummies
Stackin' real estate and money
It's funny how things change overnight
When you thinking right
I beat the odds like Ike beat on his first wife

[Repeat 1 2x]

What an event?
We hardcore 100%
Making it stick, Los Angeles proudly presents
The real deal, how does it feel?
No special effects
Yank the chain off of your neck
Demand the respect
Now all your conversations sound strange to me
It be like everybody around me done changed but me
I stand alone on my own two feet
Stagger tracks, strangle the beat
Restless no time for sleep
Niggas be weak, I'm concrete like Bejamin Greet
It's a very thin line between a foe and a friend
Straight to the chair
(Not these niggas again)
Come back, bounce in the spot and slide right in
I ain't trying to see nothing but progress, regardless
Home of the heartless, move right, remain cautious
Represent nothing but the hustle and struggle
Hennesy, rock plenty of ice, making a double, now SCREAM

[Repeat 1 2x]

[Snoop Dogg]
So there you have it; A-B-C, D-P-G-C
X to the motherf*ckin Z
Mr. Xuberant, Xtravagant, Xtrodinary, Xciting, X-a-lotta
X-O with a little bit of Xtasy
X-ing your bitch-ass out if you tryin to test the G
And what's the recipe? Xcalibur weaponary
And we shoot Xceptionally
That there is hot- X marks the spot?
F*ck naw, X spots the marks
Xclamation point, niggaz!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Young, Melvin Bradford, Alvin Joiner, Scott Storch
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






Alkaholik

[X] C'mon
[E] Xzibit!
[X] Yeah..
[E] Ahh, ahh, E-Dub

[Xzibit]
It's that millenium ridiculous flow, I never let go
Niggaz gettin knocked out is part of my show
Let 'em know who they f*ckin with yo, a rhyme wrangler
Tri-angular push-up the hillside strangler
Dangle a, nigga by the ankle off the balcony
Now let his punk ass go, look out below (BELOWWWW)
It's a tale of two cities, come out when the sun go down
We officially not f*ckin around
Stuck in the ground, fitted with a suit in a pine box
(hah!) with my fresh pressed khakis in a slingshot
So heatbox all day in a nigga face
and all you bitches see the dick that you shoulda ate

[Chorus 2X: Xzibit *singing*]
Call it what you wanna call it
I'm a f*ckin Alkaholik
Bring it if you really want it
Ain't gotta put no extras on it!

[Erick Sermon]
Yo, I'm in the zone, and lyrically gone
Got the spot blown, BOOM! Oklahoma
Watch the aroma, catch those who love me
My underground dirty cats on dune buggies
I be the type to take your watch and flaunt it
Kidnap T. Lewis and Jimmy Jam on it
Yo, I bang a nigga head til his neck pop
Do a KRS-One to a "Black Cop"
X and E's, out for cream
Get the money, while you stay broker than Al Bundy
Uhh, give it to y'all, in "Any Given Sunday"
With J. Foxx name the spot, make it hot
(I hate E so much right now!) Blow it down hooker bounce
come off the ropes like J. Snooka
[*X*: Two fly motherf*ckers] You can't f*ck widdit
Backed by +Open Bar+, so y'all forget it

[Chorus]

[J-Ro]
J-McEnroe, cam smashin, party crashin
I eat MC's like a ration
I'm sockin niggaz in they goatees
I leave you stiffer than that fool on my basketball trophies
I'm in the room with 10 G's, countin ten G's
cause we need a bag of weed (can you smell it?)
Now we need ten dimes, to blow on deez like wind chimes
Time to close the blinds cause you all in mines
I bought a bottle for the session, and did not share it
Drink so much Captain Mo' all I need is a parrot
You took the Alkaholik challenge, and lost your balance
You underground, we under water drinkin liquid by the gallons

[Tash]
Slurred words, double vision, brain bustin, head rushin
Since I'm too drunk to walk, I rock a party on crutches
and still rush the roughest MC who wanna get it
Forget it, it's Likwit, Tha Liks and, Xzibit
Ca-Tash on the blast the final piece to the puzzle
I slap bitches on the ass I slap tits up out the muzzle
I shuffle with the microphone, bang rhymes consistant
You wack and I'm Ca-Tash and that's the motherf*ckin difference
For instance, "21 and Over" set your clocks back
(Tick tock tick tock) Still standin where the rocks at
Two-thousand-one, we still young guns that's +Restless+
(Thirty niggaz, sixty hoes) and that's the motherf*ckin guestlist!

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALVIN JOINER, ERICK S. SERMON, JAMES ANTHONY ROBINSON, RICARDO D. SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Kenny Parker Show 2001

[KRS-One]
You are now tuned in to the ultimate sounds.. of Dr. Dre
You know what time it is!
Xzibit steps up to the mic
Layin down the hard-core, real raw, underground
My name is KRS-One, and it's REAL!!

[Xzibit]
Well it's me, down with D-are-E
X to the Z rocks any party
Rocks the beats, and the breaks
Rocks the cocks off the whores in the place
Cause suckers shake, while I'm creatin
They get together and they start to hatin
How can we take him out one time
Cause he brought back the West with the freshest rhymes
I might go first, and he'll go second
I'll wreck 'em, deck 'em, set it, just checkin your mic
Droppin hot shit I like
So throw up your hands bitch, run your ice
Cause I'll go third, and he'll go fourth
By the fifth eat shit, you'll step off
Six is your beatdown, your title is seven
Takin out your four man crew makes eleven
By the twelveth I go for self
Rockin L.A. like no one else..
You can check any rapper from the underground scene
But few have dropped hot shit and seen green
Some have dope twelve inches, count 'em
But not many niggaz have slammin albums
X to the Z rocks consistantly
I'm "Criminal Minded" so don't f*ck with me
Why? Well that's my secret baby
I don't take shit, so f*ck you, pay me
So you can call me, a public servant
Not a king but a teacher I believe I've earned it
So I just walk, or ride my bike
And bust on the +Up In Smoke+ stage tonight
Give me a chance and I'll rock the house
But let a motherf*cker try to take me out
Cause male or female, I will strangle
If it's a label, they have to untangle
Adidas, chains, jerseys, braids
Bandanas hangin off the end of my gauge
Step right up if that's what you like
But watch your bitch, I catch hoes like a dyke
In the night at a height right for flight
Way out of sight, you bite, I recite
My chain shine bright, plus my kicks stay white
As your faggot CEO say, "Well alright!"
.. I am your mentor
History is mine, it's time you surrender motherf*ckers
And just back up quickly
Your style is sickly but you persist to get me
Or outwit me with the style that I created
Years ago when I was sellin powder to the hoes
Oh, all of a sudden you don't know
Or can't remember can't recall can't bring to mind
That rhyme that place do not chase
I run a marathon a race of rhymes in your FACE
In case you hate I won't write no tough rap
F*ck with me get your whole FAMILY kidnapped

[KRS-One]
Yo Xzibit! Show these motherf*ckers man!
I don't think they understand this shit!
Break this shit over they backs!

[Xzibit]
I don't dress up to rap or keep a hairdo
I only grab a nine to bust holes in your crew
I deny your existence as artists
You puttin out a record expectin to chart but it's weak
But when you speak through the microphone
You fail to realize, nope, you're not alone on the earth
The light comes forth cause Mr. X
Intelligence, smoke and guns manifest in the flesh
I snatch the mic and get hype
Behave, before you make the news front page
Headed for the grave and the wake
So save your microscopic miniature small talk and WALK
And put a little pep in your step
X to the Z will destroy any motherf*ckin rep-utation
In the nation, in creation
All you assholes in ANY occupation
Like rappers with nothin to say
I CRUSH 'EM like chronic and then smoke 'em with Dre
Cause no matter how fatter the wallet, I'd rather
Gather together and splatter
Whatever egotistic bullshit, the game is over
When you push the record but don't push the culture

[KRS-One]
Breakin, emceein, graffiti art, deejayin, beatboxin
Yo Xzibit, keep rockin!

[Xzibit]
Just throw your hands in the sky
Still believe real niggaz never die
And if you in this life just gettin by
Somebody say, "I'm high!"
(I'm high!) "I'm high!"
(I'm high!) Yeah, and you don't stop
Yeah..

[KRS-One]
Woop woop, woop, woop woop!
You know what time it is
Pull over, all wack emcees, AHH-AHHH!
Yo.. YO! You are tuned in.. to the ultimate..
Underground.. rawness! Straight off the street
Xzibit, turn it up..
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






D.N.A. (Drugs-N-Alkahol)

[ Featuring Snoop Dogg ]

Drugs-n-alkahol baby! Ah!
Uh, mm that's funky, oh!

Huh, I'm mr. What-the-f*ck-you-lookin-at
I'm mr. Quick-to-run-and-get-the-gat
Treat you like the hoosd like a diplomat
Xzibit used to push a 'llac, now I'm range rovin'
Takin over never sober, bear witness like jehovah
Enemies fall like october
Restless standin tall like a soldier
We thick like the first motorola brick cellular phones
Cut to the bone, celebratin "dre day"
Love it or leave it alone (ha hah)
Just consider me the heir to the throne
The lifestyle of the savage and well known protectin my owns
Rolling stone bringin it home, time for transition
Don't talk too loud, you might find yourself missin
Look into my eyes, all you see is will to survive
By any means, retreatin to the phillipines
To meditate, liftin train like a heavyweight
Hit you and run with a california license plate

When y'all niggas stop actin like bitches
Bitches stop actin like niggas we can all clock figures
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
They all on my dick, f*ck that shit!
When y'all bitches stop actin like niggas
Niggas stop actin like bitches we can all get riches
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
F*ck that shit! We can all get rich!

Doggy dogg is bout to blow up
All, these snoop dogg haters need to slow up, sho' nuff
Know what? X, the game is gettin sewn up
But I'm speedin 'em up and leavin 'em
I'm buckin 'em til they bleedin bruh
Hold up, f*ck that, you tryin to get swoll up
By the mic controller, clip reloader
Frozen exposure, condos of a composer
Sick like a bowl-of, a bowl of deez nuts
F*ck him up, cross him out, then toss him out
With the stamp on his head, nigga dogghouse
Nigga I'm universal crackin down south (ya heard?)
Poppin my collar with my dick in your girl's mouth, ha ha
You act like you a dude you get smashed on
Full out my bitches with your f*cked up attitude
Nappy-head hoes, worse than bitch niggas
I treat 'em all the same, bitch check yo' game!

When y'all niggas stop actin like bitches
Bitches stop actin like niggas we can all clock figures
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
They all on my dick, f*ck that shit!
When y'all bitches stop actin like niggas
Niggas stop actin like bitches we can all get riches
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
F*ck that shit! We can all get rich!

With the flick of a wrist, send you deep into the abyss
I don't pop cryst', but will pop a nigga with this
Made my way to the top of the list, raised your fifth
Anything to keep it movin make it harder to hit
We survive when you thought we was finished and done
Lookin over my cold shoulder is attila the hun
The gatling gun, guillotine, don king's american dream
Since sixteen, shoulda been a marine
Makin the whole scene collapse, millenium raps
Why fight for scraps, relax and take the whole plate witcha
The penny pitcher with a whole lot of come and get ya
You gettin my picture or do I have to let 'em hit ya? Huahh!
Feel the adrenaline rush whenever I bust
Got eyes in back of my head
The people the I trust is just like me
Full of spite with very large appetites
I'm too complex to break down in black and white

When y'all niggas stop actin like bitches
Bitches stop actin like niggas we can all clock figures
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
They all on my dick, f*ck that shit!
When y'all bitches stop actin like niggas
Niggas stop actin like bitches we can all get riches
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
F*ck that shit! We can all get rich!

(Ah-ahhh!) niggas, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, ah
Yes, x to the z, d-o-double-to-the-motherf*ckin-g, oooh-wee!
Ah, this shit funky right here my nigga
Yeah, +open bar+ nigga, we gettin' f*cked up
Three four in the morning, ain't no time limits
Huh huh, you ain't tryin to hotbox with us nigga
Roll some x, y'know!
Ah, niggas, bitches, niggas, bitches
Niggas, bitches, niggas, bitches
Niggas, bitches, niggas, bitches
Niggas, bitches, niggas, bitches
Niggas, bitches, niggas, bitches
Niggas, bitches, niggas, it's all the same though
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Calvin Broadus, Steven A Jordan, Christopher Mcgill, Raymond Arrucci
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.






Double Time

[Xzibit]
Watch me watch me, bonafide hard copy
Hip-hop nazi dispose of the Liberace's
Extra extra, enjoy the lecture
from Hannibal Lector, now rewind selector
Bounce it bounce it, smoke by the ounces
Tan leather couches, niggaz that own houses (yeah)
Testing testing, treat you like a nigga
locked down for child molesting, I'll f*ck you up punk (yeah)
Listen listen, never ass-kissin
Too much ambition, I'm hotter than Hell's kitchen (sssss)
Enter enter, the rhyme inventor
Front and center, bypass that ass like a sprinter
Get it get it, custom fitted
Dedicated to (?) one of the best that did it, huh
Terror terror, trial and error
Makin my name reign supreme and live forever

[Chorus]
Keep it movin movin, keep it goin goin
Keep it movin movin, keep it goin goin
Keep it movin movin, keep it goin goin
Keep it movin movin, keep it goin goin
[*repeat Chorus again while Xzibit raps*]
If y'all ain't givin a f*ck
like Xzibit ain't givin a f*ck then just throw your hands up
Double time, two times for me
Bring it live from the L.A.C., Mr. X to the Z

[Xzibit]
Liar liar, pants on fire
I won't stop rockin 'til I retire
Golden golden, State dominate this
Destroy the Matrix, that forever in the crate shit
Light it light it, please don't fight it
You're all invited, when we kick off the next riot (Welcome!)
Bust it bust it, get your crops dusted
Everybody off of the bus that ain't f*ckin - NOW!
Spin it spin it, all up in it
For sale, one female, slightly dented (ha hah!)
Niggaz niggaz, political figures
Problem givers, f*ck all those that ain't wit us (heh)
Rebel rebel, shoutin at the devil
Me and you faggot got some shit to settle, then
Kill 'em kill 'em, let slugs fill 'em
Smash through the club in Meoshe denim, yeah!

[Chorus]

[Xzibit]
Deadly deadly, bump this deadly medley
in whatever you rollin, even if it's stolen
Takin takin, your spot is the X man (YEAH!)
The heavy hand give a f*ck about the next man
Digital digital, high tech respect
while the rest regress, burn out like a cigarette
Break it break it, stripped down naked
Tied up in a trunk on the way to Las Vegas (yeah)
Chokin chokin, you need to stop smokin
Motherf*ck on that! Blaze a sack!
Rollin rollin, foldin bank
My first show was in the motherf*ckin holdin tank, c'mon

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALVIN JOINER, ERICK S. SERMON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Dont Approach Me

[X] Pssh, man I need a lighter man
[E] Right here
[X] Yeahhh.. whassup Slim?
[E] What's crackin?
[X] Hit this shit
[E] Ssshhit I almost hit this motherf*cker today
[X] Psh, is that right?
[E] What is it with motherf*ckers thinkin that..
[E] {*SIGH*} because we're in the spotlight or whatever that..
[E] they can do or say whatever they want to us
[E] and that we won't retaliate
[X] Protect my motherf*ckin self, by ANY
[both] MEANS, NECESSARY
[E] Right?

[Chorus 2X: Eminem]
Cause you don't know me, I don't know you
So don't approach me, I won't approach you
And don't insult me, I won't insult you
Cause you don't know what I will or I won't do

[Xzibit]
Make no mistake, I'm the Golden State heavyweight
Bein underrated gave me time to create it
Can you relate? I renovate, straight out the gate
Carried my weight, but seem to receive nothin but hate
Millionaires snatchin crumbs off my little son plate
Kidnapped, locked in a trunk, get shot in the face
No hoes, no clothes, no one showin up for my shows
You know how it goes; I might as well kick it at home
But my baby momma hate my guts and can't stand me (yeah)
Packed up, moved out, started a new family
So all this strugglin for what, so I can blow up
marry a slut but can't watch my seed grow up?
F*CK THAT, this the f*ckin thanks I get
for tryin to edutain assholes and feed my bitch
Yo I feel like my whole life is upside down (upside down)
cause you seein more support than I'm seein my child
It's like..

[Eminem]
.. everyday I wake up, another drama
It's a wonder I'm alive, survivin this karma
If I can hold on to my private life for five minutes longer
I might get my wife to let go of this knife and just calm her
without these cameras in our faces like animals
for your Channel 2 Action News to follow our ambulence up the avenue
and catch a glimpse of all the suicide attempts
and what we do in private since they won't let us put up a fence
And you wonder why I carry every gun under the sun
whether it's unloaded full or an un-registered one
No bullet, you're so full of shit
this clip is so full it'll spit if I don't pull it
And don't give me no bullshit I'm not in the mood
I just got in a feud in some parkin lot with a dude
over Kim and she just slit both of her wrists over the shit
Don't tell me bout the show business shit
I know what this is, bitch

[Chorus]

[Xzibit]
This ain't business, this is personal BITCH
You don't know Xzibit from shit, new school, class dismissed
I had a very F*CKED UP day, I'm needin this fit
Shuttin motherf*ckers up like they pleadin the 5th
Yo Em it's time to get serious with it (yeah)
Time for everybody to feel it, similar to the egg in the skillet
This is your brain on drugs, Xzibit brain on thugs
Ain't no neighborhood that's big enough to bang on us
Ain't no love lost my niggaz, relax yo'self
I'm about to snatch it all and start spreadin the wealth
To my niggaz who never seen it I mean it when I holla
at the top of my lungs about my guns and my loved ones
Got, tons of ammo to crack your enamel
Changin your channel, you played like a f*ckin piano
Ridin slow through Cali like I'm ridin a camel
Millionaire motherf*ckers with their brains in their flannels
I feel like, Tony Soprano, who do I trust now?
Just hit me on my tele' nigga soon as I touch down
Spit lines to split spines just to get mine
Big behind bitches gettin dick to spit shine
Sniff lines of coke, that's the only shit that make you dope
Bitch-ass nigga that's droppin the soap
Get choked out and beat, put your head in a vise-grip
and turn til you motherf*ckers tell me the right shit

[Eminem]
So do I gotta buy a whole block to myself
a front door with twelve locks
and have a bodyguard walk me out to my mailbox
and everytime somebody makes a threat, run and tell cops?
F*ck that, I protect myself with these twelve shots
and one in the chamber, gun in the waist
and one in the ankle, waitin for someone to come to my place
tryin to walk up and knock like these cocksuckers are not
gonna get a shotgun or a glock shoved in their face?
And it's a disgrace Hailey can't play with her toys
in the front yard without you drivin by honkin your horn
screamin some shit, leanin out your windows, beepin n shit
Or pullin up in my drive like I won't leap in your whip
And so these kids tell their friends and relatives where I live
so my address ends up on the internet again
So then, I do an interview with Spin, tellin them
that if someone comes to my crib, I'ma shove a gun in their ribs
And reporters, blow it out of proportion
"Oh, now he's pullin guns on his fans
just for tryin to stand on his porch"
And I'm the bad guy, cause I don't answer my door like "Hey hi!
You guys wants some autographs? Okay, form a straight line!"
Sometimes I feel like loadin this rifle
and climbin the roof at night and hidin outside to snipe you
It's not that I don't like you..
.. it's just that I'm not behind the mic
I'm a person who's just like you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MARSHALL MATHERS, ALVIN JOINER, MIKE ELIZONDO, CAMARA KAMBON
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management






Rimz & Tirez

[ Featuring Kokane, Defari, Goldie Loc ]

So
Alright, alright

Take a chance, come dance with a cowboy
Playin', stopped playin' long time ago with child's toys
It's only men in here, deuce deuce inch Pirelli
And Goodyear niggas, sip malt liquor beer
They gave me sixth man of the year, came off the bench for Tha Liks
Shot the lights out at the championship
Big chips, big trips, new fits, my money clip
Full of green cheese, my other pocket got green weed
Rap niggas, we different individuals
Elevate the level of the music and the visuals
It's do or die, I need a Priest, call Soopafly
Whatever we discuss when we meet's between you and I
I'm truly high, red-eyed for the red-eye flight
Five hours, eight drinks, I rode all night, shit
Everyday, every night's a saloon
Crime blitty, good bottle, million dollar tunes

Love when when you're out there on the ave
When you're down 24/7, niggas don't know the half
My Romeo's step down on the pedal
My back keeps on scraping the metal
I be coasting and be goin' hitting three wheel motion
With my rims and tires

I ain't never seen Kevlar flesh (hell nah)
Y'all bitch niggas is flirting and f*ckin' with death
I was taught to stick with the right and work with the left
Never love nothing, never turn snitch and confess
Gotta catch me in the heat of the act, and run the risk
Of catchin' three to the back, and try walking with that (yeah)
I ain't goin to the pen' for shit
Except to snatch up my loved ones to get loose and hop the fence
It ain't hard to look hard, snatch up a catalogue
Mad dog to niggas that walk up your boulevard (yeah)
But one day, you gon' feel it (what?)
I'm a firm believer in the theory if it bleeds, I can kill it
A hit man for hire (yeah) caught up in the crossfire
The live wire, leak a nigga like a vampire
My empire roll rims and tires
Either get with us, forget us and get behind us, motherf*cker

Love when you're out there on the ave
When you're down 24/7, niggas don't know the half
My Romeo's step down on the pedal
My back keeps on scraping the metal
I be coasting and be goin' hitting three wheel motion
With my rims and tires

With my rims and tires
So low

Mr. Recycler (What?) I'm looking for a sixty-two Chevy
And she kinda bad, threw him six and I was ready
(Whatchu want me to do?) To get spic and span
Man, I'm glad you came and got me from that old white man (good looking)
He took me to a spot in Long Beach, hooked me up with four pumps
But everybody in the hood can't jump
And I change colors when the sun hit me
Fix me up, now my owner wanna slang me for 50?
Bling bling, now I belong to a Japanese
And they was quick to throw me in the magazines
I make money (Huh?) I never broke down, fool's tripping
(Check it out) How many cars you see in Seoul on streets dipping?
(None) Afraid to get that ass caught slipping (why?)
For me, it was an easy task
I kept an engine on my ass with heat under the dash, fool (peep game)
I was born to low ride on rims and tires, yeah

Love when you're out there on the ave
When you're down 24/7, niggas don't know the half
My Romeo's step down on the pedal
My back keeps on scraping the metal
I be coasting and be goin' hitting three wheel motion
With my rims and tires

Love when when you're out there on the ave
When you're down 24/7, niggas don't know the half
My Romeo's step down on the pedal
My back keeps on scraping the metal
I be coasting and be goin' hitting three wheel motion
With my rims and tires

Hello?
Hello?
Hey, wassup baby, whatchu doin'?
Hi, baby, what are you doing?
Well, I'm over here workin' in the studio
With my homeboys and shit, what's happenin' with you?
Awh, I'm just thinkin' about you, when are you coming home?
Never, bitch!
Ah, I'm just kiddin', I'm just kiddin', I'm just kiddin'
I'm just kiddin', I'm just kiddin'
Nah, but for real, what's happenin'?
I'm just sittin' here, thinkin' about you
Wondering when you were coming home?
Shit, man, we should be done 'round like 4, 5, 6, 7 in the morning
What? You better not be up there with some motherf*ckin' bitches
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Priest J. Brooks, Duane A Jr. Johnson, Alvin N. Joiner, Jerry Buddy Long, Keiwan Dashawn Spillman
Copyright: Lyrics © HERUT MUSIC






Fuckin' You Right

Listen to this, I'm just tryna do this for us
You know what I'm sayin, you scream at the top of your f*cking lungs
Yeah, I'm just tryna do this hard work and get this good between us baby, yeah

Look, Samantha, Loraine, Monica, Veronica
Veronica, she treated my dick like a harmonica
How you think I learned how to twist it and turn
Ya back until it's broke, make you feel it in your throat
It was Pamela, Linda, Keisha, Nicole
Had me f*ckin while I was drivin on cruise control
Can't wait to get it home and teach it all to you
Look I'm just tryna be the best, I'm doin it all for you
You know that thing with the peanut butter
My Brooklyn bitch said f*ck untyin the ropes,
It's faster with a box cutter
I know you love the way I'm diggin you out
But always want to f*ckin aruge so let's figure this out
I'm just tryna make you happy bitch
Who's there for you anytime you get in the mood for suckin a dick
I took the time out to find out what ya like
You bust fifteen nuts, want to get up and fight
So look

You should thank of all the bitches that I have in my life
All the experience I'm gettin got me f*ckin you right
Never took time to see it and plus
All you thinkin 'bout is yourself, I'm thinkin for us
You love the way I beat it down when I come in the house
And all in ya mouth, the bedroom, kitchen and couch
You should thank all of the bitches that I have in my life
All the experience I'm gettin got me f*ckin you right

It was Gina, Julie, Renee, Ty and Tammy
Made me spend some extra days in Miami
Candy, Trisha, Prescilla, Melissa
Showed X to the Z it's better with three
Who could f*ck your ass better than me (pssst)
I think not, hard knock the cock, welcome to my sweat shop
I pick locks made by NFL, NBA, NHL, f*ck all day
You could say I didn't do this shit
Unsatisfied bitches gotta go out and chase the dick
And that's just not the thing to do
So I learn new shit from the next bitch and teach it to you
Now don't you love it how I shove it baby (hell yeah)
When we be f*ckin and we thuggin baby (hell yeah)
The way I hit it when I pump it baby (hell yeah)
And don't I spit it when I bust it baby (hell yeah)

I insist that we f*ckin on videotape
Just incase a bitch lose face and try and call rape
If you know somethin that might excite up our late night
Got an open invite to lay us a pipe
Make ya head feel like your wet, warm and tight
I'll go from all night 'til the sun turn bright
Two wrongs don't make it right bitch, no need to cheat
(Pussy just a piece of meat, another means to eat)
Big Tray D told me that, as a matter of fact
You only tell me that you love me when you're flat on your back
You want to leave me now bitch, my f*ckin feelings is hurt
Why am I the only one that's tryna make this work

You should thank of all the bitches that I have in my life
All the experience I'm gettin got me f*ckin you right
Never took time to see it and plus
All you thinkin 'bout is yourself, I'm thinkin for us
You love the way I beat it down when I come in the house
And all in ya mouth, the bedroom, kitchen and couch
You should thank all of the bitches that I have in my life
All the experience I'm gettin got me f*ckin you right
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Best of Things

[Xzibit]
I was voted most likely to have a psychiatric evaluation
Let's start the process of elimination
This dedication is for niggaz with the green buddha
The bandula, six-shooter to your suit coolers
Now how this feel? Cold black steel up in your grill
This hollow point lead gon' be your last meal
Say your prayers, say your graces
Pieces of your face is found in a hundred different places
Huh, so what we lookin like? We tryin to see some hoes to f*ck tonight
and you just tryin to see the afterlife
Make a decision before we have a head-on collision
makin me spend the rest of my life in prison
See I can only play the cards I was given
Multiplication division whatever you got to break mines off
like the U.S. government did to Microsoft
Like Xzibit in some pussy with the lights turned off
It's like

[Chorus]
I'm just livin to fulfill my dreams
I'm just tryin to have the best of things
None of y'all can't take shit from me
Life's a bitch she ain't f*ckin for free
So I'ma ride til the wheels fall off
while all the rest get weak and go soft
Your petite style, can get you beat down
My heat's loud, have you huggin on the street now

[Xzibit]
Niggaz keep askin me how does it feel
How does WHAT feel? Not havin to scrape for a meal?
Not bein locked down to a f*cked up deal?
The biggest man in Los Angeles is not Shaquille
We had to reinvent the wheel, draft new blueprints
Made a whole album, spent HALF what you spent
then sent the rest to my people to invest wit it
Custom fitted, if you want it nigga, come and get it
and I suggest you bring a million niggaz runnin wit it
Split it, feel it, hit it it's hot, look
I ain't gon' stop til everybody's shot
Muammar Khadaf's the dot, X mark the spot
with an infrared to your head, left for dead
F*ck the feds, flee the country then grow some dreads (ya mon)
I suggest you keep your distance, for instance, the same distance
it takes to get to the next solar system, motherf*cker

[Chorus]

[Xzibit]
Strike one, when a nigga talkin shit with his hands
Strike two, gettin caught in the wrong place with your pants down
Strike three, tryin to f*ck with the D-O-double-G
D-R-E, or any of my Alkaholik family
Huh, Xzibit turn your vital signs to a straight line
Never seen a dog bite and bark at the same time
Restless, rugged, never relaxed
Permanently owe you motherf*ckers backs like tax
Baseball bats and breaks upside of your head
Homey STILL gettin swoll off water and bread
I got this, retaliation, for any situation I'm facin
and leave the stage with a standin ovation, it's like

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALVIN JOINER, ALVIN N. JOINER, ANDRE YOUNG, ANDRE ROMELL YOUNG
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Get Your Walk On

[Intro- Xzibit & W.C.]
Yeah nigga get cha walk on
Yeah ya'll trynna walk huh
Well let us officially show you
How to do the damn thang
Yo, Huh, Come On!
Wo, what what
Whats crackalatin, Haha (Yeah)
We now got the whole world doing our dance homeboy
(AAAAAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!)
Whats crackin X, Dov C (What, what yeah)
Bringin it to ya live and direct
Wit my homeboy Mr. X (Ssshh, sshh, sshh)
Check this out ya'll (Yeah, come on!)

[Verse 1: W.C.]
Heal toe, heal toe
Heal to the toe, heal the to toe, toe to the heal
Let me see ya skip-pin on that dance flo baby
Look at dis - walk walk walk walk walk walk wit me
Fool what up, lace some chucks up
I be that gran empire lizard of c-walking teacher
Polaroid house shoots creeper
A foot star, child like destiny
Gettin my walk on with Mr X to the Z (Yeah!)
Dre and brizzay got this dub connect straight bangin
Westside bandana swizzangin
How we open up a can of words
And outta return, man to shoot sprea-da like grems
On the remix heres one more for ya'll to talk on
Dov C gettin his walk on

[Chorus: W.C. & Daz & Xzibit]
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin this here, this here is dead right
Yeah-Get your bounce on, back dat ass up (Yeah!)
Just pass me the chronic, fill your glass up
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin this here, this here is dead right
Yeah-Get your bounce on, back dat ass up (Bounce)
Just pass me the chronic, fill your glass up

[Verse 2: Daz Dillinger]
From the depts of the smog cookin serving that is regular
Daz Dillinger no one could do it better (Yeah!)
Blue chucks, blue ragz, and a nigga blue sweeter
X to the Z, Dov C my nigga
Lets get down when I get down and rippin up and shit down
Fredwreck wit the gangsta sizz-ounnd
I make em' sea sick when they listen to this
I gets stupid when we cleans it up
We ain't had enough, Dick-ya-la
Coming straight outta the cut
With some shit that I want so you know I ain't no joke
But huh, rat-ta-ta-ta put you on your back
Nigga we get stupid like this and like that, you see
Put ya left foot in and your right foot out
And ya do the c-walk and ya shake all around
If you do the crip-walk and the po-po's start to talk
See thats what its all about (Wo...)

[Chorus: W.C. & Daz & Xzibit]
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin this here, this here is dead right
Yeah-Get your bounce on, back dat ass up
Just pass me the chronic, fill your glass up
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin this here, this here is dead right
Yeah-Get your bounce on, back dat ass up
Just pass me the chronic, fill your glass up

[Verse 3: Xzibit]
I can drink a whole Henessey fifth
(AAAAAAaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!)
Some call that a problem but I call it a gift
Hey the westcoast a face lift a brand new day
Now we got the whole planet trynna walk this way (Yeah!)
On display, live and direct for ya'll
No respect for the weak no respect at all
Breaken your jaw, easy like breaken the law (Yeah!)
Yeah my fire al-pine and shake the car
Pay attention I'm on a mission so walk wit us
Talkin tough ain't enough in Los An-ge-les
Gotta mean whatcha saying, saying whatcha meaning
6'fo' chromed out 3 wheel meaning
Khakis and t-shirts for all four seasons
I tit even, some vist without leaving
Here we go again ain't a damn thang changed
Keep my name outta ya mouth and stay in ya lane

[Chorus: W.C. & Daz & Xzibit]
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin this here, this here is dead right
Yeah-Get your bounce on, back dat ass up
Just pass me the chronic, fill your glass up
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin this here, this here is dead right
Yeah-Get your bounce on, back dat ass up
Just pass me the chronic, fill your glass up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: M. N BRADFORD, KEVIN GILLIAM, ALVIN N JOINER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






Sorry Im Away So Much

[Xzibit talking]
Come here Tre, what's up son, come on
To whom it may concern, yeah, listen
Sorry I'm away so much, yeah, yeah
All the sons, daughters, penitentary niggas, yeah, feel me
Uh, sorry I'm away so much, yeah

[Xzibit]
My son was born about four and a half years ago
Nothin protected him, amazin how fast they grow
I came to know about his likes and his dislikes, yeah
Video games, taught him how to ride his first bike
This is the life my little nigga, I see you gettin all upset
When I leave the house, poutin, let me tell you about
Tryna make it in this world and provide for you
'Cause on them overseat plane rides I miss you too
Never knew that I would have to be away so much
Five thousand dollar phone bills keepin in touch
We Starskey and Hutch, yeah, we partners for life, yeah
I rock mics, so I'm sorry when I hug you if I squeeze too tight
Long nights in the studio take me away
Gettin mad 'cause I'm tired and you want me to play
Money can't replace time, I'm just tryna get you outta the fine relyin
And expand your mind my lil' ni', yeah
Yeah, c'mon

[Chorus-X]
Look, sorry I'm away so much
Understand me, yeah
It's for you, hah, yeah (you, and you, and you)
C'mon, look, sorry I'm away so much
Huh, we keep it gangsta
Look

[Xzibit]
I got a brother locked down, he be out in a couple
Knuckle for knuckle, a veteran and nothin but muscle
Now broadcastin live from behind the wall
Stayin tight through long kites and telephone calls
Gettin hype when you see your brother on T.V.
Can't wait for your release so you can roll with me
Arrange everything exactly how it's supposed to be
For right now here's a thousand, J, stay lo-key
You say damn Xzibit, whyn't you pay a nigga a visit
Time limits got me movin a million miles a minute
Knee deep, gotta strike while the iron is hot
Still gotta eat and keep the lights on when it's not
Sleepin on cots, bullet wounds got you in knots
I wish I was there to snatch you up instead of the cops
Muthaf*ck it, do the time and get it out of the way
You goin from convict to corporate nigga in one day (in one day)

[Chorus]

[Quik]
Now I ain't never been this hot before
So in essence it's obvious, I ain't never been this out before
I'm spending 25-8 days, 366 times a year
Up in the studio freakin and mixin rhymes in here
Nothin but beer, bud smoke, Hen and Coke, women and sheer
Callin playa niggas there
Not the kinda place I really wanna bring my son
Get on lil' Dane, gon' in there and have you some fun
Used to be that ??? be up there sewin ya clothes
While I'm with you on the Playstation showin you codes
Hit the X button stupid, forward, left, right, X
Now I'm tryna get your college fund, bustin with X

[Suga Free]
Come here, give that here dada,
no no don't do that mama 'cause dada be back
Here go your ba-ba, Pampers, flashy ???, you can see that
You tryna figure out
why dada talkin to you through this glass on the phone
Ooh, I socked a bitch and then she snitched, but I'll be home
Can't keep me away, just can't stay away

[Chorus-Suga Free]
[Suga Free talkin to fade]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alvin N. Joiner, Dajuan L. Walker, David Marvin Blake
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.






Loud & Clear

[ Featuring King Tee, Butch Cassidy, Defari ]

Yeah
Addicted to life, had to pay a heavy-ass price
Sacrifice worth waitin' on the platinum and ice
I'm precise with the merchandise, came back like Christ
To change the game, while y'all niggas remain the same
Clear the lane, comin' through like Kobe, you can't hold me
You can't stop me, ever since I dropped "Paparazzi"
I done watched the game unfold into some hideous shit
Like every idiot that can spit be droppin' a hit
I transmit for the convicts, committed, never bullshitted
Shadowbox, detox, my own worse critic
It's like tryna squeeze water from rocks
I negotiate the neighborhood stocks and clean your clock with a Glock
Sick of niggas screamin' they hot, but really they not
Beatin' you all to the ground like six L.A. cops
Put your fist up in the air if you ever been shot
And lived to tell about it, never leavin' home without it, come on

There's no one out there
For us to fear, I'll say it loud and clear
(Yeah, we ain't scared of none of y'all motherf*ckers)
Who can say they're close to us
Speak now and you'll be brought to tears

They probably saw me on the 91 East, gettin' off on Central
With the rag back, lookin' like life's so simple
Tela take a loss, still floss, all bets
If Trife can't cover the house, call X
Likwit crew brothers, Blues Brothers
Move somethin', make killers do somethin', for real
The bitch-made often politic with the skill
Now shit's all twisted, unlisted
Guns fixed it, best not speak about the Likwit
We gifted, twenty-four hours and still lifted
(Bitch, keep your vagina) We drunk and ain't interested
Bitches come a dime and a dove, we ain't trippin' it
Standin' at the bar, soft-styled in the cut
"Ooh, boo, wait, I think you had too much"
Bitch, what? Act right and pour it in a cup
The West and Eastside keep smokin' them blunts, niggas

Let's get with it, I was born to trip
Stay on the lookout, ain't no time to slip (yeah)
We ain't for games and shit
Change your spot, 'cause we're known to dip (come on)
No time for chasin' hoes (hell nah)
I'm on a mission 'cause my cash is low (shit is low)
There's no need to speak on those (come on y'all)
Doggy rags are the gangsta's clothes

There's two sides of my family, both sides from the ghetto
Pops Finnish choco-late, moms Mississippi yellow
Caramel, Cherokee black man, with a pedigree of excellence
Together we rise, no time for separateness
My grandfather Snake was a Jake, or a jack
Of a smack to a bird who don't know how to act
Straight hustler, Mississippi moonshine smuggler
Good ol' wrangler in his day with that attitude of "F*ck ya"

Built to run forever, X the infinite
First line of defense to smash through the immigrants
Can't straddle the fence, it's all or nothin'
Close the curtain, shut down your whole production
Don't be scared, be prepared, niggas do be bustin'
Without thinkin' I mastered the art of hard drinkin'
Yo, you wanna stop the X, try your best
I'm still f*ckin' with your pockets like the IRS, so yo

There's no one out there
For us to fear, I'll say it loud and clear
(Yeah, we ain't scared of none of you motherf*ckers)
Who can say they're close to us
Speak now and you'll be brought to tears
(Front line all the time motherf*cker)
Gather all around to see how we display our vicious skills
(We got spitter after spitter after rhyme spitter)
I done seen and heard enough
Let's prove the West coast is for real
Speak now and you'll be brought to tears
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Danny Elliott II Means, Kevin Gilliam, Duane Johnson, Alvin Joiner, Roger Mcbride
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Back to: Xzibit


Restless is the third studio album by rapper Xzibit. It was released December 12, 2000 though Epic Records, Loud Records, SRC Records, and Xzibit's Open Bar Entertainment. It debuted at #14 on the Billboard 200 with approximately 205,000 copies sold in its 1st week released. The album then fell 17 spots to #31 in the 2nd week, but then rose back up 19 spots to peak at #12 the following week.

Since being released, the album has been certified Platinum by the RIAA with an excess of a million copies sold in the United States, making it Xzibit's most successful album.
Performed By: Xzibit
Genre(s): West Coast hip hop, gangsta rap, hardcore hip hop
Producer(s): Dr. Dre, Battlecat, DJ Quik, Eminem, Rick Rock, Erick Sermon, Rockwilder, Mel-Man, Nottz, Scott Storch, Sir Jinx, Soopafly, Thayoud Ausar
Length: 59:38
Released: December 12th, 2000
Year: 2000

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