You Better Believe It

[Xzibit] Yeah, yeah! Yeah, we keep it bouncin like this Yeah, huh, we keep it movin like Listen, listen, look.. The most wanted man in America, I +Soul Assassinate+ your character Quickly embarass ya as easy as fuck! Pressin my buttons nigga is just like pressin your luck China-white, a hundred percent, pure uncut Detonate, Little Kuwait, I'm blowin shit up Go ahead, make your mistake, and throw that punch I'ma pull this forty-four Mag and make you strip Then walk down the street naked, some gangsta shit Make it complete, I yell dance, shoot at your feet (Dance nigga!) Niggas be weak, I found out you talk in your sleep Since you a bitch, you came back, went in for more cash Baseball both of your legs, I'll trip on your ass [Chorus: Xzibit] You never stop me cause you movin too slow And we not the motherfuckers that you thinkin you know It ain't the dollars it's the principle of it so love it or leave it Forever hardcore, so you better believe it In all black, full metal jackets that make you move back Move units the same way I used to move crack You never stop me cause you movin too slow And we not the motherfuckers that you thinkin you know [Xzibit] Yeah, yeah, most of the time I'm totin a nine In my waistline or behind this close to my spine I write these, negative fines, and heat for lines Last seen in a black trenchcoat, at Columbine Peep the design, make your remains hard to find I ain't afraid to exchange fire, just cross this line Most niggas got guns but still don't know how to aim right I remain tight, sleep in a coffin, avoidin daylight [Chorus] [King Tee] We sit upon a plateau, with guns and cash flow Sadaam and Castro, terror to the last blow I mash dough and half these cats you ass slow It's relative, and all positively negative It's like, cuz flashin his gat, thinkin he cute While I'm paranoid, cookin that loot, urgin to shoot +Assassinate+ the +Soul+ and bring life A fascinatin flow by King Trife, listen I'm in a fucked up position, my baby momma keep bitchin Niggas is dry snitchin, and switchin Not to mention, my cousin cookin crack in my kitchen So why the fuck you think my braincells keep flippin? Plus most niggas round these parts got weak hearts Call theyselves thugs when they let the heat spark You mark, cross me and pay that tax Punch you in the mouth and take that gat, motherfucker! [Chorus 2X]