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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Best Of Things [Explicit] |
Album: | Restless | Genres: | Rap |
Year: | 2000 |
Length: | 201 sec |
Lyricist: Xzibit
Lyrics:
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 fuck 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 fuckin 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 fucked 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 Fuck 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, motherfucker
[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 fuck 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 motherfuckers 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
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