1. Chamber Music
[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*]
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