[Xzibit]
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Yeah, yeah!
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Yeah, we keep it bouncin like this
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Yeah, huh, we keep it movin like
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Listen, listen, look..
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The most wanted man in America, I +Soul Assassinate+ your character
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Quickly embarass ya as easy as fuck!
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Pressin my buttons nigga is just like pressin your luck
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China-white, a hundred percent, pure uncut
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Detonate, Little Kuwait, I'm blowin shit up
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Go ahead, make your mistake, and throw that punch
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I'ma pull this forty-four Mag and make you strip
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then walk down the street naked, some gangsta shit
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Make it complete, I yell dance, shoot at your feet (Dance nigga!)
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Niggaz be weak, I found out you talk in your sleep
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Since you a bitch, you came back, went in for more cash
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Baseball both of your legs, I'll trip on your ass
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[Chorus: Xzibit]
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You never stop me cause you movin too slow
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And we not the motherfuckers that you thinkin you know
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It ain't the dollars it's the principle of it so love it or leave it
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Forever hardcore, so you better believe it
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In all black, full metal jackets that make you move back
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Move units the same way I used to move crack
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You never stop me cause you movin too slow
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And we not the motherfuckers that you thinkin you know
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[Xzibit]
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Yeah, yeah, most of the time I'm totin a nine
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in my waistline or behind this close to my spine
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I write these, negative fines, and heat for lines
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Last seen in a black trenchcoat, at Columbine
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Peep the design, make your remains hard to find
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I ain't afraid to exchange fire, just cross this line
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Most niggaz got guns but still don't know how to aim right
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I remain tight, sleep in a coffin, avoidin daylight
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[Chorus]
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[King Tee]
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We sit upon a plateau, with guns and cash flow
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Sadaam and Castro, terror to the last blow
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I mash dough and half these cats you ass slow
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It's relative, and all positively negative
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It's like, cuz flashin his gat, thinkin he cute
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while I'm paranoid, cookin that loot, urgin to shoot
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+Assassinate+ the +Soul+ and bring life
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A fascinatin flow by King Trife, listen
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I'm in a fucked up position, my baby momma keep bitchin
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Niggaz is dry snitchin, and switchin
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Not to mention, my cousin cookin crack in my kitchen
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So why the fuck you think my braincells keep flippin?
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Plus most niggaz round these parts got weak hearts
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Call theyselves thugs when they let the heat spark
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You mark, cross me and pay that tax
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Punch you in the mouth and take that gat, motherfucker!
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[Chorus 2X]
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-----------------
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You Better Believe It
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Xzibit |