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lirik lagu xzibit - inside job

[intro: xzibit]
mr. x to the z (who am i?)
m-m-m-mr. x (who am i?)
x to the to-the-to-the z
m-m-m-m-mr. x-x-x to the z (yeah, yo)
m-m-m-m-mr. x-x-x to the z

[xzibit]
so it’s one fifteen in the mornin i’m comin up, a hard day, serve
we gettin drunk smokin herb and the third dike you roll
non-stop cash flow, 20,000 dollars and the rest cuttin yayo
we had the rocks, my n-gg- late to pick it up
get him on the phone, hurry up cause i ain’t tryin to get stuck
so what the f-ck is the hold up?
(“n-gg- sit your -ss in the chair and i’ll be right there”)
reminds me i gotta shake the spot
i got b-tches in the hotel room ready for me to bang cob weight (-knock-)
yo, who is that man?
(“he wanna spend a couple of hundred, (yeah), but he’ll be right back”)
that’s when i shoulda got the heater
but i was too busy in the kitchen countin money and takin shots at tequila
started countin out twelve when it hit me
if you was rocksteady, you woulda came when the c-note’s rang
before i could yell out to lock the front
n-gg-s rushed in the front door with the gauge, ready, duck
bad enough i’m caught up in it, jacked, but worst than that
i’m caught in the kitchen without the strap
(“where the muh-f-ckin sack homeboy?”)
yeah, woulda killed terminators only d between us is
a stove and a refrigerator, came in and put the gauge to my chest
took the money off the table and said (“yo, where’s the rest of it n-gg-?”)
you gotta love it, came straight to the moneyman
20,000 cash, needed stacks, wrapped in rubber bands
sn-tched the whole sh-t and broke out
i ran to the living room and got the heat from under the couch
smashed out into the middle of the street started blastin
dumpin at the getaway cars but they was mashin
i thought i heard the homies just in time for the action
police hit the corner with they reds and white’s flashin
these n-gg-s rolled off with at least a cool fifty
ya, i’m in handcuffs on the ground and mad cause the k-9 bit me
shipped me off downtown for the bookin
threw my herb sack when the cops wasn’t lookin
fingerprints, hold the tape, hear come detectors
one at the door, another one askin questions
stupid sh-t like: – “who was i shootin at?”
was it game related and where do they kick it at?
but i didn’t say sh-t i can tell from all the people
involved it was an inside job
but i’m the wrong n-gg- to rob, i’ll hunt you down
f-ck the money, i’ll take you off and accept the loss
set bail at fifteen g’s, no sweat
got cars slippin tonight, and almost got wet
homies come to set bail see, but that’s all right
since i’m already here i’ma spend the night

[outro: xzibit and another having a conversation]
(“hey, hey i need to use the phone again”) [-car h-rns-]
(“ay, ay man”) (“since when did you start takin shoestrings and sh-t?”) (“man”)
(“ahhhh”) (“do i look like i wanna kill?”) (“ay man, f-ck that”)
(“ay, look:”) (“i just need to use the phone real quick man, eh, f-ck it”)
(“aight, ay, let me get the top bunk”)
(“ay man, this, this, this blanket, this blanket smell like urine man”)

all right, you’re charged with public intoxication
(all right, listen there’s a thousand people down there who are drunk)
okay, i understand that

- lirik lagu xzibit

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