You Better Believe It Lyrics - Xzibit

[Xzibit] 

Yeah, yeah! 

Yeah, we keep it bouncin like this 

Yeah, huh, we keep it movin like 

Listen, listen, look.. 

The most wanted man in America, I +Soul Assassinate+ your character 

Quickly embarass ya as easy as fuck! 

Pressin my buttons nigga is just like pressin your luck 

China-white, a hundred percent, pure uncut 

Detonate, Little Kuwait, I'm blowin shit up 

Go ahead, make your mistake, and throw that punch 

I'ma pull this forty-four Mag and make you strip 

then walk down the street naked, some gangsta shit 

Make it complete, I yell dance, shoot at your feet (Dance nigga!) 

Niggaz be weak, I found out you talk in your sleep 

Since you a bitch, you came back, went in for more cash 

Baseball both of your legs, I'll trip on your ass 

[Chorus: Xzibit] 

You never stop me cause you movin too slow 

And we not the motherfuckers that you thinkin you know 

It ain't the dollars it's the principle of it so love it or leave it 

Forever hardcore, so you better believe it 

In all black, full metal jackets that make you move back 

Move units the same way I used to move crack 

You never stop me cause you movin too slow 

And we not the motherfuckers that you thinkin you know 

[Xzibit] 

Yeah, yeah, most of the time I'm totin a nine 

in my waistline or behind this close to my spine 

I write these, negative fines, and heat for lines 

Last seen in a black trenchcoat, at Columbine 

Peep the design, make your remains hard to find 

I ain't afraid to exchange fire, just cross this line 

Most niggaz got guns but still don't know how to aim right 

I remain tight, sleep in a coffin, avoidin daylight 

[Chorus] 

[King Tee] 

We sit upon a plateau, with guns and cash flow 

Sadaam and Castro, terror to the last blow 

I mash dough and half these cats you ass slow 

It's relative, and all positively negative 

It's like, 'cause flashin his gat, thinkin he cute 

while I'm paranoid, cookin that loot, urgin to shoot 

+Assassinate+ the +Soul+ and bring life 

A fascinatin flow by King Trife, listen 

I'm in a fucked up position, my baby momma keep bitchin 

Niggaz is dry snitchin, and switchin 

Not to mention, my cousin cookin crack in my kitchen 

So why the fuck you think my braincells keep flippin? 

Plus most niggaz round these parts got weak hearts 

Call theyselves thugs when they let the heat spark 

You mark, cross me and pay that tax 

Punch you in the mouth and take that gat, motherfucker! 

[Chorus 2X]