Xzibit Freestyle Ghetto Lyrics

sponsored links

Verse One: Xzibit (Shady)

(See look look)
I grab the mic and start breakin' down niggers
with out no problem
fong cast the line from the bottom
Ain't no mic check your work kick the rhymes if you got 'em
But if you are swack
I brought back the caps on the villians
should have stuck to rhyme killin'
A vista blood stillin super villian
chillin' stayin' high like the ceiling
see there ain't enough room for the both of us
so it's a showdown
throw down your best sound I'll bust it(yo)
I rock rhymes that make niggers throw they sets up
couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
In all disrespect
I'll smack you by the neck
and do a suplex instead
so nigger you can check my credentials
just hard rhymes and instrumentals
Exhibit me smashin' you in the dentals
with a loaded pistol
no longer lookin' in the window
I cop a feel wit indo
on the peel,
Shady's outta here...

Verse Two: MC Breeze

Like a fuse start spreadin' the news
it's ninety foe and Breeze is givin' niggers the blues
I paid my dues now it's time to go on to the next mode
make room for the caboom cuz I'm about to x-plode
and drop bombs like a B1, Compton sees none
and if you step up it's open season
3 seconds to detonate you better evacuate
no time to hesitate you fuckin' featherweight
I ain't the type to pick up the mic
and catch the stage fright
I pull the cage if I ain't paid right
to the promoters on tour
short me a buck and the buckshot and the barrel's yours
I'm psychopathic like Manson
ain't wit the dancin'
but still I get more chicks than Ted Danson
more dough than Marino or Rose 'n Pacino
you bein' me? yeah right that's only in your dreams hoe
I'm not saying I'm untouchable I'm saying I'm unbeatable
livin' comfortable just like a Huxtable
plus I'm rollin' with the crossroads
movin' fast forward while you other suckers
stuck in the sloth mode
I goes deep like a great black
but I'mma stay white
no matter how you have to pay stats.
As my rep gets bigger
you might be take this nigger out of the ghetto
but not the ghetto out this nigger.....

Verse Three: J-Row, Tash

Footballs, basketballs
microphones, gas and grass just
some of the few things J-Ro likes to pass
93 mandingo ninety foe I'm the pharoah
cuz I'm b-b-b-bad to the bone marrow
I get wild
with more styles in to martial arts
I need weed
I row mow grass than golf carts
April 92 you know the row was a hula
now I'm writin' raps on my lab-top computer
J-Ro the titty fiend rap fiend wearin' green
been on the scene since the age of 13
I learned I had to earn the mic
now's my turn
I got Furious Styles like Larry Fishburne...

Verse Four:

With the bitches turnin' it in
like it's the Young and the Restless
next up to bust my shit
from the L-I-K-S's
yes it's the freshest
with lyrics rough around the edges
I'll smoke you on the mic
like a pack of Benson Hedges But..
hold up, wait
I'll bust rhymes that will suck you late
that'll wake your punk ass up like MC Eight
cuz I've been rockin' rhymes
since the roof was on fire
so point me to the bitch who's the dumbest butterflyer
I'll make her break it down like she patch her when I catch her
Broadway is on the tables
while I throw these lyrics atcha
so....slow down before you fuck with my sound
you better do the hokey pokey
and turn yourself around...

Verse Five:

Now watch me get Doggy like a Snoop Snoop
Funky for my group group
Make you wanna Shoop Shoop
There it is! Whoop whoop whoop!
Fool! I've got props
Bustin' at the cops
Gettin' what I gots
Blowin' up the spots
Checkin' out the scene
It's somethin' like a dream
How'd I become the king?
Stuffin' all the green
Coolest of the cool, I've got damn fool,
Breakin' up the rule
I'm from the old school!
So hey, bust the speaker
Yo, hey bust the preach
Side by the each, trickin' fuckin' treats
Known to be the boss
Tipsy off the sauce
Junk cuz the funk because the alcoholics stay across
It's a real situation, so Pete what cha facin'
The Zulu nation or your um, CMC asian
Ready for the world, Doesn't need a girl
I'm picking Cherry Lou when the time is a pearl!
Ha Ha Ha
Know what ahm sayin'
Yeah, some of that old...Neck shit from the West Coast side, yeahh
My man Casper if you comin' down tonight
Breeze in the motherfucking hoooouse!
Ha Ha Ha
Broadway, John Marie
This shit straight pumpin'
Word Up!

Thanks to Mark Rappaport for submitting Freestyle Ghetto Lyrics.

Artists A to Z: