I wanna speak to you motherfuckers for a minute, yea China(?), yeah thanks for the lighter yeah, aight, thats more for me you punk motherfuckers
Everybody, here was born to hustle it's a very thin line between the boss and the muscle face first in the trenches only time I'm on my back is fucking these hell's kitchen, raw kitchen ever crying and bitching and settling feeding my people even if it aint legal low-ride in the regal or the cadillac money stack probably give yo ass a purchased your last cd I want my money you see the battle Ima see you in the survival of the first to draw the heaters Im guaranteed to be the last man standing
crack a bottle for your hard time it's dedicated to my soldiers on the thinking bout your casualties learn from mistakes, protect your family
all this shit is bout to me mine easier to burn than papier-mache bout to blast off worldwide get in line check the politics ever wonder why only certain barely can eat, barely can pee I dedicate my life to the street it's not for you if your stomach is weak relax with dead bodies covered with sheets thats the only time I really find peace having violent stand-offs with the police have you stuck and stunned in disbelief smoke your weed til my mothafucking eyes dedicated to the niggas that despise us so ain't nobody s'posed to be here
Broadcastin live from Planet Los Angeles Right, heh, it's X to tha Z, Xzibit
I was one that never begged for nothing me and my homies build penitentiary running your mouth like a bitch cause you what is he dogg pound now? is he still is he rich? is xzibit a crip? this is business stay the fuck out of my family shit a grown man, the back of my hand is what if the X-fives make you believe you check the sound scan I do the math me and my staff run a worldwide warpath a bloodbath, make Xzibit have a good laugh it's going down, hit the ground like a you lil fags ain't prepared for the X-man move to the back of the line yo its my time, prime time only where the beats and the rhyme shine