Xzibit — D.N.A (Drugs-n-Alkahol)

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Текст Xzibit — D.N.A (Drugs-n-Alkahol)

Drugs-N-Alkahol baby! Ahhh!
Uhh. mm that’s funky. ohh!
Huh, I’m Mr. What-The-Fuck-You-Looking-At
I’m Mr. Quick-To-Run-And-Get-The-Gat
Treat you like the hoods like a diplomat
Xzibit used to push a ‘llac, now I’m Range Roving
Takin over never sober, bear witness like Jehovah
Enemies fall like October
Restless standing tall like a soldier
We thick like the first Motorola brick cellular phones
Cut to the bone, celebrating «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 protecting my owns
Rolling stone bringing it home, time for transition
Don’t talk too loud, you might find yourself missing
Look into my eyes, all you see is will to survive
By any means, retreating to the Philippines

To meditate, liftin train like a heavyweight
Hit you and run with a California license plate
When y’all niggas stop acting 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, FUCK THAT SHIT!
When y’all bitches stop acting like niggas
Niggas stop acting like bitches we can all get riches
Hoes on my dick, niggas on my dick
FUCK THAT SHIT! We can all get rich!
Doggy Dogg is ’bout to blow up
All. these Snoop Dogg haters need to slow up, show nuff
Know what? X, the game is getting slower
But I’m speedin ’em up and leaving ’em
I’m bucking ’em util they bleeding bruh
Hold up, FUCK THAT, you trying to get swoll up
By the mic controller, clip reloader
Frozen exposure, Cordozar the Composer
Sick like a bowl-of, a bowl of deez nuts
Fuck him up, cross him out, then toss him out
With the stamp on his head, nigga Dogghouse

Nigga I’m universal cracking Down South (ya heard?)
Popping my collar with my dick in your girl’s mouth, ha ha
You act like a dude you get smashed on fool
Loud-mouth bitches with your fucked up attitudes
Nappy-head hoes, worse than bitch niggas
I treat ’em all the same, bitch check your game!
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 moving make it harder to hit
We survive when you thought we was finished and done
Looking over my cold shoulder is Attila the Hun
The Gatling gun, guillotine, Don King’s American Dream
Since sixteen, shoulda been a marine
Making the whole scene collapse, millennium raps
Why fight for scraps, relax and take the whole plate with ya
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
(AH-AHHH!) Nigga, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, ahhh
Yes. X to the Z, D-O-double-to-the-muthafuckin-G, OOOH-WEE!
Ahh. this shit funky right here my nigga
Yeah, Open Bar nigga, we getting fucked up
Three, four in the morning, ain’t no time limits
Huh huh, you ain’t trying to hotbox with us nigga
Roll some X, y’know!
Ahh. 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