Parole Best Of Things


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  • Durée : 03:21
  • Date de sortie : 12 Janvier 2000

Paroles de la chanson Best Of Things :

I was voted most likely to have a psychiatric evaluation

Let's start the process of elimination

This dedication is for niggaz with the green buddha

The bandula, six-shooter to your suit coolers

Now how this feel? Cold black steel up in your grill

This hollow point lead gon' be your last meal

Say your prayers, say your graces

Pieces of your face is found in a hundred different places

Huh, so what we lookin like? We tryin to see some hoes to fuck tonight

and you just tryin to see the afterlife

Make a decision before we have a head-on collision

makin me spend the rest of my life in prison

See I can only play the cards I was given

Multiplication division whatever you got to break mines off

like the U.S. government did to Microsoft

Like Xzibit in some pussy with the lights turned off

It's like


I'm just livin to fulfill my dreams

I'm just tryin to have the best of things

None of y'all can't take shit from me

Life's a bitch she ain't fuckin for free

So I'ma ride til the wheels fall off

while all the rest get weak and go soft

Your petite style, can get you beat down

My heat's loud, have you huggin on the street now


Niggaz keep askin me how does it feel

How does WHAT feel? Not havin to scrape for a meal?

Not bein locked down to a fucked up deal?

The biggest man in Los Angeles is not Shaquille

We had to reinvent the wheel, draft new blueprints

Made a whole album, spent HALF what you spent

then sent the rest to my people to invest wit it

Custom fitted, if you want it nigga, come and get it

and I suggest you bring a million niggaz runnin wit it

Split it, feel it, hit it it's hot, look

I ain't gon' stop til everybody's shot

Muammar Khadaf's the dot, X mark the spot

with an infrared to your head, left for dead

Fuck the feds, flee the country then grow some dreads (ya mon)

I suggest you keep your distance, for instance, the same distance

it takes to get to the next solar system, motherfucker



Strike one, when a nigga talkin shit with his hands

Strike two, gettin caught in the wrong place with your pants down

Strike three, tryin to fuck with the D-O-double-G

D-R-E, or any of my Alkaholik family

Huh, Xzibit turn your vital signs to a straight line

Never seen a dog bite and bark at the same time

Restless, rugged, never relaxed

Permanently owe you motherfuckers backs like tax

Baseball bats and breaks upside of your head

Homey STILL gettin swoll off water and bread

I got this, retaliation, for any situation I'm facin

and leave the stage with a standin ovation, it's like