I wanna speak to you motherfuckers for a minute

Yeah, what's happenin? Yeah thanks for the lighter

Anybody smoke here? Yeah, aight

That's uh that's more for me you punk motherfuckers

Look, check it, look



[Xzibit]

Everybody here was born to hustle

It's a very thin line between the boss and the muscle

We foot soldiers, face first in the trenches

Only time I'm on my back is fuckin these hoes and weight benches

Yeah, Hell's Kitchen, raw tension

Never cryin and bitchin or settlin for less, heh

Metal in your chest, take a final breath

Revolutionary, it's X-Man the mercenary, heh

Carry a .44 Desert Eagle

Feeding the people, even if it ain't legal

Lowridin in the Regal or the Cadillac

Money stacked probably give your ass a heart attack

Purchased your last CD, I want my money back

You see the battle I'ma see you in the street

Survival of the first to draw the heaters and the cannons

I'm guaranteed to be the last man standing



[Chorus: repeat 2X]

Crack a bottle for your hard time

It's dedicated to my soldiers on the front line

This one's for all of us

Thinkin bout your casualties

Learn from mistakes, protect your family

cause it's the year two thousand



[Xzibit]

Everybody wannabe king, fuck everything

All this shit is bout to me mine, I hear it all the time

Live your life for the day

Easier to burn than paper-mache

Started with Dre, graduate to radio play

I still ain't satisfied, bout to blast off worldwide

Get in line check the politics

Ever wonder why only certain motherfuckers get rich?

Ain't this a bitch, barely can eat, barely can pee

I dedicate my life to the street

It's not for you if your stomach is weak

Relax with de