[Featuring Xzibit] [Tash] Ahh, ahh I be killin it (why Tash?) cause I be feelin it I get money so no need for stealin it I work diligent beneath the Earth's soil Where I write rhymes so fresh it's like I wrapped my styles in foil But I sit at home and boil spicy rum when it's freezing Cause I from the Likwid crew where we got drinks for every season Maybe that's the reason why I live high all July And the place I buy my beer is callin in for more supply Maybe not, maybe so, maybe yes, maybe no Maybe niggaz got some friends that wanna battle for some dough If you know somebody holla, cause I take those extra dollars Split that shit with J and Swift, buy a ninety-six Impala And lace it with the deez out my own stack of cheese Get a extra flossy floss and toss King Tee the keys And say, 'Nigga that's yours, cause you opened up doors Before Tha Liks had a deal, you had a nigga on tour So God bless ya, never let this rap pressure test ya You know who got your back when them other niggaz sweat ya' So check uno dos while I roast this coast a toast When it comes to beats and rhymes, you know who got the most I be killin it (killin it) killin it (killin it) Tha Liks rock that shit that have all ya niggaz feelin it Killin it (killin it) killin it (killin it) J-Ro is up next to flow [J-Ro] Dat's me I be killin it (killin it) when I be feelin it Got rum in my cup, best believe I won't be spillin it Yo Xzibit (whattup Ro) I got to know Do I got that Likwid flow (oh fo' sho') well here I go Mida, mida, down the barrel of my heater I torch ya, then skeet out in my Porsche two-seater I'm from the home of rattlesnakes and golden bears And Astro-vans with swivel chairs hoes come in pairs Plus, makin money's in my genes That's why I got money in my jeans, I got a cravin My mind craves the knowledge, my pockets crave the cash My mouth craves the brew, and my Johnson craves the ass Who's on blast, Tha Liks baby, don't twist it Just rock it, got your girl's number in my change pocket What's her name Stella, if she's on me kinda hella ?Voule vou couche vic moir? is what I tell her I get freaky like Friday, why dey, try to get loose Wack MC's are like ?brown guts?, they have no use I just got off the court, where I was whoopin some cats In basketball, here's a question that I have to ask y'all Who be killin it, is it the ladies? Who be killin it, is it the fellas? Who be killin it, is it the b-boys? Who be killin it, is it the gangsters? Who be killin it, is it the rastas?
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