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State Of Hip-Hop vs. Xzibit Xzibit
"State Of Hip-Hop vs. Xzibit" is a #HipHop track released in 2000. The song explores themes of authenticity, competition, and the evolution of hip-hop culture. Xzibit reflects on his identity and the challenges within the industry. Unique elements include aggressive beats and sharp lyricism, showcasing his influence and resilience in hip-hop.
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[Intro: Xzibit & Alonzo from Training Day (2001)]
Yeah, you wanna get shit done, you gotta get it done yourself
Holy Shit
Breathe
Yeah
Breath, there you go
Hahaha
Breath, dawg
Yeah!
Let it go
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Yeah, huh
Yeah, go
Go
Yes
Breathe
[Verse 1]
Man, I'm talkin' about that '64 rag-top
Clean with the back racked
Everything matte black, colder than a six pack
You know what the fuck it is and what I came to do
Now put your hands up in the air like I'm about to shoot
My agenda is here, crystal perfectly clear
Breathe apocalypse in, we have nothin' to fear
We have nothin' to lose, pressure applyin' the rules
Bust on a motherfucker and knock him up out of his shoes
That's what my coast love, good money, great drugs
Every bad bitch you can think of
Swagged out, loced out, flamed on, purve out
Shit faced from shots, your words come slurred out
Better put the word out, modified and mediocre
I'ma bust it down, serve 'em like a bunch of smokers
You can fuck around, rounds get to flyin'
Know I asked your little mind, "Is your pride worth dying over?"
Yeah, you wanna get shit done, you gotta get it done yourself
Holy Shit
Breathe
Yeah
Breath, there you go
Hahaha
Breath, dawg
Yeah!
Let it go
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Yeah, huh
Yeah, go
Go
Yes
Breathe
[Verse 1]
Man, I'm talkin' about that '64 rag-top
Clean with the back racked
Everything matte black, colder than a six pack
You know what the fuck it is and what I came to do
Now put your hands up in the air like I'm about to shoot
My agenda is here, crystal perfectly clear
Breathe apocalypse in, we have nothin' to fear
We have nothin' to lose, pressure applyin' the rules
Bust on a motherfucker and knock him up out of his shoes
That's what my coast love, good money, great drugs
Every bad bitch you can think of
Swagged out, loced out, flamed on, purve out
Shit faced from shots, your words come slurred out
Better put the word out, modified and mediocre
I'ma bust it down, serve 'em like a bunch of smokers
You can fuck around, rounds get to flyin'
Know I asked your little mind, "Is your pride worth dying over?"
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