[Ras Kass]
What, yeah, yeah
Black John McClane, Harold the Menace, and the
Waterproof
with my nigga Bud’da, on the track
Golden State Warriors..
Eatin every rapper on the plate
Huh, feel me
I got three-oh-fo’s in three-one-oh
on section eight, with multiple one-eighty-sevens
Sport a Marilyn Manson t-shirt when I die and go
to heaven
Smoke a beady, scrape my lungs, smoke the resin
Remember the name Ras Kass-ciano
Get to clownin y’all punk bitches, cause I’m a
Mac, like Ronald
I make Mac make money, and mack murder wack
rappers
My Makaveli verse Bomb First, the Mac-11′ll gat
cha
When I get at cha, the situation tenses
Fatality before you ever reach your senses
Got so-called writers, crashing into brick fences
like my name was Al Fayed so you die, like that
white princess
If you lookin for sympathy, you better look
between R and T, in the fucking dictionary
See the object of the game is to win, stack some
ends, sippin Henn’
Whip a Benz and leave it to your next of kin
Chorus: repeat 2X
[RK] Pick a card any card, I bet you can’t pull
it
[GS] Golden State, number one with a bullet
[XZ] It’s three card molly
[RK] Will they ever stop?
[XZ] Probably not
[SN] Pull your spine through your mouth and watch
your body drop
[Saafir the Saucee Nomad]
The un-edited medic, on the cut, with a degree in
metaphysics
A doctor, with a lot of patients/patience
And perseverance — flows like an ocean liner
that sails/sales like a clearance, I’m bilingual
Fly like a flamingo, I’m a pitcha, everything I
freak
I eat like Al Pacino, you don’t like me baby
You ain’t happy, you need some Ecstasy
Now you in my properties, but you have to pay my
equity
For the lowest point in my character
I’ll reach the highest place in the house when I
rock
like the Qu’ran, fuse hot, fluid with flavor like
buillion cube
Been this way since I was fourteen
And like this I been runnin shit without the use
of Sportscreme
Rippin up tracks like immigrant Chinese, peep the
game I lay
I’m grim, I brim over my brow when I rip
Never write rhymes with slim fingertips
Each syllable you choose to use is light as a
flower
Keep tryin to go gold
but all you’re gettin is a golden shower
Chorus
[Xzibit]
Look, now if it wasn’t for the West
These rap niggaz wouldn’t need a vest around they
chest
Keep bustin about where you rest, and what you
own, and what you drive
So the day some niggaz come for you I’m really
not surprised
Mr. Black Bruce Willis, please don’t kill us
I show mercy like Kevorkian, like a scorpion
We sting you from behind and put it in you, so
meet me at the venue
Put you on the spot to put you on the menu
Fricaseed emcee, we be the ones that keep the
pussy hot
Xzibit livin life, like a bull inside a china
shop
Strippin everything, see you ain’t even got a
dime to drop
Go ahead and call the cops, you ain’t said nathin
Jerry Spring-you out the studio, then Suge Knight
you
to the parkin lot, niggaz ain’t ready for all
this heat we got
Picture yourself crushin Xzibit with your tough
talk
That’s like Christopher Reeves doing the crip
walk
Chorus
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