Bài hát Chamber Music Báo Lỗi

Verse One:


The official representative, LAC

This is phrophecy manifested by X to the Z

Victory, strike a B-Boy stance in khaki pants

Never get along like red and black ants, advance

When your staring and this concrete that move like liquid

Like a nigga withouth legs, I ain't tryin to kick it

To much to finish, a menace, without enought time

My mind only give punchline, you probably thinkin of the wrong kind

Cause if it jokes, nigga know

The kind that drop on your eyes, your ears, your nose, and your throat

I promote self-defense not dollars and sense

Kick it with scholars and pimps, you just the last part over the fence

Assed out in the open, while you was hopin that Xzibit was second rate

But I refuse to make; just another record in the crate

I think not, got bee-bops

I bring it to your house like pizza


"Today we are on the streets of South Central Los Angelos, a fight for

survival"


"We have people that are conditioned not to expect to live past age thirty.

They no longer. Once they no longer care they're extremely dangerous."


Verse Two:


Stand at attention, make sure you keep your piece clean

When I release steam, police crime scenes to guillotines

Hit and decapatate the bird case, featherweight

Critical thinking, while you at water that concentrate

Xzibit crash the gate, heavyweight, box em in

Seal off the exits, then cut off your Oxygen

Xzibit run with a regiment of veterans

I only like to come out Late Night, like Dave Letterman

Time for some medicine, cause niggas bout to get sick

Callin me a hater cause I don't ride dicks

Read my lips, we got problems like Bloods and Crips

Love the sound of clips when I know my shit

Chamber Music, this is for the ones with stone-face

That catch you at the right time in the wrong place

We unsafe, One-fifty-one with no chase and no ice

Take away your life like three strikes


Yeah, come on, Chamber Music


Verse Three:


So now Xzibit got a little money, I think its funny

How motherfuckers think I'm supposed to Cher/share like Sonny

Clarify, you don't work you don't eat, I repeat

You don't eat you get weak, catch a fragile physique

Accomplish more in one day, than you can do in a week

The X-Man, Wolverine, one swing to make the cut clean

And the wrong things manifested in flesh

Fuck the game, I take the test, graduate, pass to the S-Class

Catch a roadrash, all you smell is hash

Chronic mix, bumpin the Liks

And dick you like a Hebron fix

Bear-arm from here to a hundred-tweny meters

Get black-walled, modern day Lee Harvey Oswald

The assassin, brother who came blastin

Take it without askin, rappers is all fashion

Xzibit keep mashing through

Got any lost words? I got two

Drive up, on you like that!


Once again Chamber Music, what what, yeah, what the deal? It's Xzibit.


Get on the ground, get on the ground! Hands on the back of your head, Don'

Move Don't Move! Get on the ground! * beat to fade *