Artist/Band: 
Xzibit 
Lyrics for Song: Tough Guy 
Lyrics for Album: Weapons Of Mass Destruction [2004]
  
               
  4036>[Busta Rhymes]
  Aiyyo it's the immaculate conception Busta Bus himself
  And nuttin other than the godfather, spectacular X to the Zizzle
  That's what the fuck it is, 'nuff said
 
 
  YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!
  I wanna see you motherfuckers put your hands up
  Stretch bitch like you doin aerobics motherfucker
  Yeah!
 
 
  [Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
  Thought you was a tough guy? (BOOM!)
  When I put one right in ya head, now tell me
  what you think you is now
  (A top dollar biller, a Rottweiler, a killer)
  (Slap the shit out a nigga tryin to copy my style)
 
 
  [Busta Rhymes]
  Check it
  I got cars (many) switches (many) hoes and (many) bitches
  (Many) huh, bodies that's buried in holes of many ditches
  (Many, many) homes, plenty chrome up on my whip
  (Plenty) stop for you make me run up on your block
  and cock the semi
  Ready, any, nigga front I hold it steady
  I (cock) back (pop) the ratchet and spill your spaghetti
  HUH! Properties or blocks, we control 'em
  (Many, many) glocks know how I kill all your soldiers Freddy
  My machete (huh) will cut niggaz like I ain't really like 'em
  (Ha!) Then carve a nigga meat deep like I'm killin a bison
  HUH! Tyson, animal instinct the way I will beat you
  Got (many) shots and (plenty) spots for them bullets to eat you
  (Ha!) See through (huh) them holes them bullets'll leave in
  between you
  (Ha!) It seems you, got left to die slow all up inside the venue
 
 
  [Chorus]
 
 
  [Xzibit]
  Yup! Yo
  Orangutangin slangin, I'm hangin over the edge
  I rock two 40 glocks, I call 'em Barney and Fred
  I stay hungry like I'm only fed water and bread
  The king of the castle get at you, screamin off witcha head
  Brutal bustin, it's the X to the Z, we chart climbin
  You see my name next to that diamond, it's all timin
  Hit you in the stomach, with somethin your face and feet'll
  be touchin to have your bones start crackin and bustin
  To my women who be workin them jeans with fat asses
  Rich Itala heels, Roberto Cavali glasses
  Come to my hideout, let me pimp your ride out
  Hit your backside, tear your spine out and slide out
  (HUHHH!) Yeah, cause my grind don't quit
  I'm a walkin franchise with them extra clips
  I keep the bread roll thick, do lines so sick
  that you can cut 'em with a razor blade, sniff the shit, c'mon
 
 
  [Chorus]
 
 
  [Busta Rhymes]
  Yeah, check it
  I tell you (no lie) bitch nigga you (gon' die - kill or be killed!)
  Or get bodied just because you (walked by - nigga be still!)
  'Fore the trigger go off and a (shot fly) and the shit'll be ill
  If the shot turn your stomach to a (pot pie) nigga we spill
  A little liquor for the homey muh'fucka (WE STILL)
  'll make a nigga leak blood, 'til he need a (REFILL)
  You try to be a tough guy, and complicate what I build
  Somebody don't beat the shit out this muh'fucka (WE WILL!)
 
 
  [Xzibit]
  Asthmatic, dramatic, fold you like a Kraftmatic
  Heavy metal press hittin your chest like a train wreck
  Command respect, throw it one time for your set on deck
  Niggaz you never forget
  I set up precedents, homey you never snitch, hide the evidence
  Dummies dig ditches, they dyin for dead presidents
  The big screen make 'em seem large like an elephant
  But in real life they so soft and so delicate
 
 
  [Chorus]
  4036> |