Testo Loaded - Xzibit feat. B-Real & Demrick
Testo della canzone Loaded (Xzibit feat. B-Real & Demrick), tratta dall'album Serial Killers Presents: Summer of Sam
Damn, D
Oh (Uh-huh)
West up, nigga
I know y'all love this shit (Redline beats)
Yeah
You couldn't hold my crown, but you can hold my balls
May they hold you down, I hope they slow you down
I control you now
Move or that police car will mow you down
You ain't payin' attention, I ain't playin' attention
While they movin' in silence at their discretion
Got your blinders on, homie, get 'em slapped off, walk it off
When your body's on the street, watch 'em chalk it off
Block it off, you're the cancer, yeah, we chop it off
We tryna fill a cup, top it off, pop it off
With no breaks from a Molotov fireball
We take a hit, baby, cough it off, knock it off
Yeah
Westside, bitch
Unadulterated underground gangster shit
All the Hoovers, the esés, the Bloods and Crips
Straight up and down like the hands on the twelve and the six
They gon' be testing our words, the revenge of the nerds
They got you all to believe in
Yoga, coffee beans, iPhones, and Red Bull wings
Know a bitch from a queen
Find your Adam and Eve in the system of things
Dog whistle my fanbase and let off some steam
I'ma better my circumstance, so follow my lead
Thank you for rockin' all our merchandise and buyin' our weed
Don't be the one that we leave, taking one for the team
I'm a dirty disease, so I'm immune to the virus
I'm down for catching a fade, you had a right to be silent
But if you choose to be silent, it's gon' be horrible violence
Now pledge to allegiance and stand
United, huh (Make America great again)
Suck my dick
I don't need your approval, women swear by this
Never had your fingertips on the three pump switch
Never had a bitch nigga call me son of a bitch
Algorithm is thick, they be calling me different
Tryna put out more records than Master P and No Limit
Wanna handle your business? Better fuck with Xzibit
But if you fuck with Xzibit, I'll send your ass to the dentist
If you touch B-Real, it's gon' get so real
Like Tyson, EarBison, Holyfield
Put me in quarantine, still can't hold me still
I'm essential to business like brakes on a wheel
We just shootin' for change while others shootin' to kill
Ain't no justice in motherfuckers, they just makin' deals
They want us all separated like Bill and Camille
When the illusion is sloppy, the trick is revealed, for real
Credits
Writer(s): Ricardo Thomas, Alvin Joiner, Demerick Shelton Ferm, Louise Freese
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