Bài hát BK To LA Báo Lỗi

(feat. M.O.P.)


Yeah! AOWWW, AOWWW!

C'mon! Yeah, yeahhh (yeah) yeahhh, yeahhh

M.O.P.! Uhh (X to the Z)

Yeah baby, that's right, you know how we do it

One time, X, where you at my nigga?

FIYAHHHH!!!!


[Xzibit]

I spread the hate, like Taliban records and tapes

Shoot five times to the sky, gimme some space

I got y'all, runnin in place, cut to the heart of the subject

(MASH OUT NIGGAZ!) Straight from the gutter you love it

Ain't nothin above it, we stomp y'all religiously

Watchin paper thugs tryin to hide behind the industry

From here to infinity, love thy enemy

Niggaz got the knowledge but don't know the chemistry

All inside your baseball hat and kneecaps

with baseball bats ('TIL FAME HIT YOU WITH THE MINI-MAC)

Full body black fatigues, lungs black from weed

In black limo tinted SUV's with Bill


[Billy Danze]

STILL (still) WORLD (world) FAMOUS

The underdogs of rap, back to claim this, the fact remain we're

heartless and painless, it's dangerous to strangers

that try to change us, knowin we're anxious to flame 'em


[Chorus 2X: Xzibit + M.O.P.]

[X] Huh, you want problems I'ma bring 'em to you

[B] We cockin them thangs

[X] Yeah, I got a song let me sing it to you

[B] We ready to bang

[X] Yeah, you talk impressive, you don't mean it do you?

[B] Watch where you aim

[F] Get lost in the game, get tossed in the flames, nigga


[Billy Danze]

You must wanna throw the towel in holmes, it's your man B.D.

From N.Y.C., the N.Y.G. (IT'S)

M.O.P., and X to the Z

is a friend of our family (YEAH MY NIGGA)

For you, counterfeit, wannabe hardcore players

I rub you under your face with single-edged razors

Cold street INTELLIGENCE, O.G.'s and REBEL MEN

Grip quick, cock squeeze and LEVEL MEN to SETTLE IT

(From L.A. to) B.K., from B.K. to (L.A.)

Persistant and insistant on doin it our way

Do you really wanna fuck with Danze? (c'mon)

When he comin with them thugs in the van

Double clutch in his hands, my nigga


[Lil' Fame]

Make the world flame! Face the Fame-ster, part, Fame-ster

Y'all niggaz akin to God and gangsters

(YOU SEE IT!) It's the M dot, to the O dot, to the P

With X to the Z hot, what's happenin?


[Chorus]


[Interlude 2X: Xzibit]

Hunt down, hurt, hang and hate the hater

Watch how you rise, fall and thank me later

Look in my eyes, I should not have to say it

Look alive, these streets is complicated


[Lil' Fame]

AOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

You got problems with us? Start poppin

I get in yo' chest like anthrax, vaccine couldn't stop it

Let's move on 'em (aoww) must move on 'em

Rush in, gun-bustin, black seven plus tools on 'em

Never snooze on 'em, I'm short, haven't got room for 'em

I send you to God with no shoes

CLUELESS! Real G's run this, we rule this

If you wanna get into some gangsta shit, let's do this

(YES SIR!) No question, no half-steppin

Streets is my profession, heat in my posession

Hollow-tips is the answer; look around you see the signs

say "NO SMOKIN" but our guns got cancer!


[Xzibit]

Yeah cause I'm not (I'm not) what you thought I was

Like my career was gon' fade like a fuckin buzz

Raise the stakes high, I solidify

the grip that I keep on shit, GET OFF MY DICK!


[Chorus]


[random ad libs to fade]