It's August 27, 2025, 02:55:29 PM
"I Was Born Wit My Fists Balled Up, Imma Fighter" forgot which song , somebody tell me
Quote from: Gangstauu on January 21, 2006, 08:22:30 AM"I Was Born Wit My Fists Balled Up, Imma Fighter" forgot which song , somebody tell meBack 2 The Way It WasMy father was a soldier, my mother was a riderI was born wit my fists balled up, I'ma fighterInspired, a real rhyme writerGet past the past the future looks brighterBut, I wanna get it back to the way it wasExchange blows, elbows and it was still loveA better time, better place in spaceCause nothin can erase, shame tat' like my nigga ChaseCause Bigga B will never be replaced, rightAnd I'ma scream it to the whole fuckin human raceGet a bar, get a tasteEnforce the muscle to ya hustle and ya did it with graceCause real niggaz don't save face, they make movementsBack to the time when hip-hop was musicWhen N.W.A. got booed at the ApolloBroke "Straight Outta Compton" and the whole world followedCause right now hip-hop is hollowWith no substance, X-Man with the roughnessCause success can suck sometimeAnd many of us the way we act, we even lost our minds
my fav X line is"i can drink a whole hennessey fifth,some call that a problem but i call it a gift"
Look, now if it wasn't for the WestThese rap niggaz wouldn't need a vest around they chestKeep bustin about where you rest, and what you own, and what you driveSo the day some niggaz come for you I'm really not surprisedMr. Black Bruce Willis, please don't kill usI show mercy like Kevorkian, like a scorpionWe sting you from behind and put it in you, so meet me at the venuePut you on the spot to put you on the menuFricaseed emcee, we be the ones that keep the pussy hotXzibit livin life, like a bull inside a china shopStrippin everything, see you ain't even got a dime to dropGo ahead and call the cops, you ain't said nathinJerry Spring-you out the studio, then Suge Knight youto the parkin lot, niggaz ain't ready for all this heat we gotPicture yourself crushin Xzibit with your tough talkThat's like Christopher Reeves doing the crip walk
You see I don't like to remenisce about the pastThe lower class, no clout livin' hand to mouthEach and every wrong move the police keep countmake it real fuckin' easy to get streched outI was at the funeral when it all beganYou know the painful transition from a boy to menI lost sight of my mother at the age of ninedidn't understand death nearly lost my mindBut see life moves on and broke niggas can't change itAge ten, new step family arrangement at thirteen, I started gettin' hair on my dickAnd noticed me and my sister were gettin' treated like shitI would forever be hit with anything in reach Then my father would proceed to go to church and preachabout forgiveness, patience all the shit that he lackedGettin' jump when he said and the head gat crackedphysical contact was in form of a slapat the age of fifteen Xzibit now hit backcourtesy of my stepbrother, who taught me to scrapLeft the bitch on the ground with her eyes on blackRan away from the house of Teresa and NateInto juvenile detention where I built up hateI don't remember the date of the judical debatebut legally I was now in custody of the state
You are the foundationBegining of a new generationI remember hospital hallway pacin'I was anxious as fuck to see your face shineOnly to find that yours looked like mineSo it's like I'm livin' twice at the exact same timeIn this life you can't press stopThen press rewindGotta live to the fullest never follow behind no manHave your own plan, expand your mindAin't no paper thin game to raise wannabe thugsThis is nothing but loveVia sattelite MuggsTake heed when it's your turn to bring new lifeMake sure it's the woman you gonna make your wifeBe prepared for the worstBut expect the bestNo matter where life takes youCome home to the WestSurvival takes more than just gats and gunsThat's words to live byFrom a father to a sonFoundation
This ain't business, this is personal BITCHYou don't know Xzibit from shit, new school, class dismissedI had a very FUCKED UP day, I'm needin this fitShuttin motherfuckers up like they pleadin the 5thYo Em it's time to get serious with it (yeah)Time for everybody to feel it, similar to the egg in the skilletThis is your brain on drugs, Xzibit brain on thugsAin't no neighborhood that's big enough to bang on usAin't no love lost my niggaz, relax yo'selfI'm about to snatch it all and start spreadin the wealthTo my niggaz who never seen it I mean it when I hollaat the top of my lungs about my guns and my loved onesGot, tons of ammo to crack your enamelChangin your channel, you played like a fuckin pianoRidin slow through Cali like I'm ridin a camelMillionaire motherfuckers with their brains in their flannelsI feel like, Tony Soprano, who do I trust now?Just hit me on my tele' nigga soon as I touch downSpit lines to split spines just to get mineBig behind bitches gettin dick to spit shineSniff lines of coke, that's the only shit that make you dopeBitch-ass nigga that's droppin the soapGet choked out and beat, put your head in a vise-gripand turn til you motherfuckers tell me the right shit
You ain't tryin to hot box with me, I swing hard liquorGoin down by the second round, all hail the undergroundHow dat sound? Xzibit backin down from a conflictFuck the nonsense, terrorist, hidden bomb shitGlass and metal in every directionInnocent bystanders taught a very hard lessonI'm the reason there's no time to reach for that weaponand reason why niggaz with problems keep on steppinXzibit ready to scrap, like Mike Tyson with his license backNine to five, minimum wage, what type of life is thatfor me? It's blasphemy, you fuckin aroundwith the Sundance Kid and Butch CassidyYou had the audacity to wanna tangle with the XStrangle your neck, slap you like the opposite sexDrunk drivin tryin to stack my lootWhile other rappers gettin "Treated Like a Prostitute"So check the SoundScan