Xzibit - Tom Green FreeStyle With Xzibit lyrics

[Verse 1: Tom Green] So what you wanna do, what you gonna wanna say? When I bust a rap in an old school way I rock it from the break of dawn 'till the break of day Don't come a-knocking if you don't wanna play And if you wanna play, you may get wet I heard your wicky-whack track playing on ca**ette So microphone check, microphone, mic check You haven't heard me yet? You better hit the deck I'm coming around the mountain with a red Corvette And I'm coming at you live on your television set There's nothing that I want that I don't got yet There's no way to take it if you never make a bet So Xzibit grab the mic, let me here you rock some sh** doing what you like - check it [Verse 2: Xzibit] Shotgun fanatic, who right back at it? You get mopped and dropped, like a filthy habit X, snatch and grab it, got you hoping I fail If I fail you'd be happy, like a f*ggot in jail I'm full retail, guaranteed to sell In my jet black McLaren, with my mademoiselle I'm strong-arm steady, you fragile and frail You think you ready for they steady hitters? I can't tell Sex sells, so f** you all, we came to bubble and ball You getting shut own, soon as I touch down Bust rounds, enemies slayed and cut down Fully automatic, spitting rounds with no sound Break down your whole regime, with my homie Tom Green In a black limousine. Hurrr! [Verse 3: Tom Green] But I don't got change I do a lot of that sh** but I lay no claims I'm begging for the wealth, I'm begging for fame But baby ain't that sh**, just one and the same Yo I waltz threw the room people know my name Abide by the rules and I feel no pain And if you get limpy I could use refrain I break you like a freaking bone overlinking a chain (?) I got a lot of people nervous, I'm taking the blame I drop another f**ing bomb on Saddam Hussein I don't smoke sh** laced with c**ain And if you're not carefull you'll get the wrong Green And if I'm ment to take the lords name in vain But oh my God that sh** was strange, man! [Verse 4: Tom Green] Hollywood California that's one rhyme program with the beats That make you freak and make the people go bananas I'm going and flowing and fumbling strong (?) with the people that don't know So give me the microphone and let my dope go rope show (?) Your b**h is like Yoko, but I'm a Ringo So move to the back yo, and check my single I'm packing them up and then backing them up Together like Pringles And I'm backing them up to the back of the pack Like a bad case of shingles Now, you watch the OC, cause you're a p**y I hit you with the 500 ton blast of George Bushy!! You think my job is cushy But then I'm clapping and rapping clapping the ba** (?) to wear gla**es nicer then a gla** of whiskey (?) You think I'm kind of friskey, but for a dollar fifty I'm flipping the lip that making you slip because I'm kind of nifty I hitch hike from Manhattan to Mississippi And then I ftoft (?) sh**ty, and oh what a pitty