Tough Guy

Xzibit

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    [Busta Rhymes]
    Aiyyo it's the immaculate conception Busta Bus
    himself
    And nuttin other than the godfather, spectacular X to
    the Zizzle
    That's what the fuck it is, 'nuff said

    YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!
    I wanna see you motherfuckers put your hands up
    Stretch bitch like you doin aerobics motherfucker
    Yeah!

    [Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
    Thought you was a tough guy? (BOOM!)
    When I put one right in ya head, now tell me what you
    think you is now
    (A top dollar biller, a Rottweiler, a killer)
    (Slap the shit out a nigga tryin to copy my style)

    [Busta Rhymes]
    Check it
    I got cars (many) switches (many) hoes and (many)
    bitches
    (Many) huh, bodies that's buried in holes of many
    ditches
    (Many, many) homes, plenty chrome up on my whip
    (Plenty) stop for you make me run up on your block and
    cock the semi
    Ready, any, nigga front I hold it steady
    I (cock) back (pop) the ratchet and spill your
    spaghetti
    HUH! Properties or blocks, we control 'em
    (Many, many) glocks know how I kill all your soldiers
    Freddy
    My machete (huh) will cut niggaz like I ain't really
    like 'em
    (Ha!) Then carve a nigga meat deep like I'm killin a
    bison
    HUH! Tyson, animal instinct the way I will beat you
    Got (many) shots and (plenty) spots for them bullets
    to eat you
    (Ha!) See through (huh) them holes them bullets'll
    leave in between you
    (Ha!) It seems you, got left to die slow all up inside
    the venue

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    [Chorus]

    [Xzibit]
    Yup! Yo
    Orangutangin slangin, I'm hangin over the edge
    I rock two 40 glocks, I call 'em Barney and Fred
    I stay hungry like I'm only fed water and bread
    The king of the castle get at you, screamin off witcha
    head
    Brutal bustin, it's the X to the Z, we chart climbin
    You see my name next to that diamond, it's all timin
    Hit you in the stomach, with somethin your face and
    feet'll
    be touchin to have your bones start crackin and
    bustin
    To my women who be workin them jeans with fat asses
    Rich Itala heels, Roberto Cavali glasses
    Come to my hideout, let me pimp your ride out
    Hit your backside, tear your spine out and slide out
    (HUHHH!) Yeah, cause my grind don't quit
    I'm a walkin franchise with them extra clips
    I keep the bread roll thick, do lines so sick
    that you can cut 'em with a razor blade, sniff the
    shit, c'mon

    [Chorus]

    [Busta Rhymes]
    Yeah, check it
    I tell you (no lie) bitch nigga you (gon' die - kill
    or be killed!)
    Or get bodied just because you (walked by - nigga be
    still!)
    'Fore the trigger go off and a (shot fly) and the
    shit'll be ill
    If the shot turn your stomach to a (pot pie) nigga we
    spill
    A little liquor for the homey muh'fucka (WE STILL)
    'll make a nigga leak blood, 'til he need a (REFILL)
    You try to be a tough guy, and complicate what I
    build
    Somebody don't beat the shit out this muh'fucka (WE
    WILL!)

    [Xzibit]
    Asthmatic, dramatic, fold you like a Kraftmatic
    Heavy metal press hittin your chest like a train
    wreck
    Command respect, throw it one time for your set on
    deck
    Niggaz you never forget
    I set up precedents, homey you never snitch, hide the
    evidence
    Dummies dig ditches, they dyin for dead presidents
    The big screen make 'em seem large like an elephant
    But in real life they so soft and so delicate

    [Chorus]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Trevor Smith y J.R. Rotem

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