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Credits
AUSFĆHRENDE KĆNSTLER:INNEN
Xzibit
Stimme und Gesang
Elizondo
Tasteninstrumente
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Alvin Joiner
Songwriter:in
Melvin Charles Bradford
Songwriter:in
Kevin Gilliam
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Michelle M9dbodisol Forbes
Ingenieurassistent:in
Richard "Segal" Huredia
Mischtechniker:in
Mel-Man
Produzent:in
Brian Gardner
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Songteksten
[Verse 1]
Yeah, I can drink a whole Hennessy fifth
Some call that a problem but I call it a gift
Xzibit make the whole continent shift (Hell yeah)
Invadin' your territory in a blaze of glory
A soldier story, livin' off nothin' but instinct
Bitch **** continue to floss and lip-sync
And I'ma just continue to flow while rockin' the boat
Probably smoke three hundred thousand dollars in dope
Don't make my Desert Eagle barrel touch the back of your throat
Always approach **** that's known for killin' your folks
Be surprised who could turn around and bust on y'all
Catch your mother or your sister comin' out of the mall
Bang holes through they coats and they Macy bags
No retaliation, you basically runnin' with fags
In these streets you only good as your last transaction
Funny style and these **** ain't laughin'
Y'all got it all fucked up in zero-zero
Think life is a video for Last Action Heroes
Face the price you pay for the games you play
When it's all said and done at the end of the day, you gotta
[Verse 2]
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 3]
Get your walk on, get your head right
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 4]
Judge and jury, don't get your case dismissed
When I get pissed I smash through the makeshift
Uplift, dump this, make your shit knock
Hypnotical hard rock that don't flop
It's the best thing crackin', my ****
Lotta rappers talk of flashin' the trigger but don't ever deliver
From the home of the toe-tag, low-riders, and body bags
Earthquakes police with automatics and nerve gas
Learn fast or get left behind quick
You testify, you get wrapped in plastic
Xzibit turn your SUV into a casket
Melt your body parts in a tub full of sulfuric acid
Drastic measures we take just to get by
For all the shit you gotta go through to get high
Standby, do or die for the West Coast
Wanna fuck with Xzibit but can't come close, motherfuckers
[Verse 5]
Get your walk on, get your head tight
I know you feelin' the shit, this shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 6]
Get your walk on, get your head tight
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 7]
Tell your people to call my people
Recognize all men are not created equal
I'm lethal, all y'all faggots remain see-through
Only the kid from The Sixth Sense can peep you (Dead people)
When I get through, the world'll be a better place
A little Jesus Christ mixed with some Leatherface
Go find some punch to spike, find some dope to lace
Pull a pistol from my waist, **** reach for space
Smack the taste out of your mouth if you talk shit
Or hit so hard to the chin it make you backflip
My transcript number one up in this conference
It's nonsense, all y'all **** want is conflict
Only associate with pros and the convicts
Xzibit roll up in the spot with a bomb, bitch
And then bounce when a couple, motherfuck a tussle
You never have enough muscle to stop a **** hustle
[Verse 8]
Get your walk on, get your head tight
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 9]
Get your walk on, get your head tight
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 10]
Get your walk on, get your head tight
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
[Verse 11]
Get your walk on, get your head tight
I know you feelin' the shit, shit is dead right
Get your bounce on, back that ass up
Bitch, pass me the bottle, fill your glass up
Written by: Alvin Joiner, Kevin Gilliam, Melvin Charles Bradford