Ahh, ahh I be killing it
cause I be feeling it
I get money so
no need for stealing it
I work diligent beneath the
Earth's soil where I
write rhymes so fresh
it's like I wrapped
my styles in foil
But I sit at home and boil
spicy rum when it's freezing
Cause I from the Likwid crew
where we got drinks
for every season
Maybe that's the reason why
I live high all July
And the place I buy my beer is
calling in for more supply
Maybe not, maybe so,
maybe yes, maybe no
Maybe niggaz got some friends
that wanna battle
for some dough
If you know somebody holla,
cause I take those extra dollars
Split that shit with J and
Swift, buy a ninety-six Impala
and lace it with the deez
out my own stack of cheese
Get a extra flossy floss
and toss King Tee the keys
and say, 'Nigga that's yours,
cause you opened up doors
Before Tha Liks had a deal,
you had a nigga on tour
So God bless ya,
never let this rap
pressure test ya
You know who got your back
when them other niggaz sweat ya'
So check uno dos while
I roast this coast a toast
When it comes to beats and
rhymes, you know
who got thev most
I be killing it (killin it)
killing it (killing it)
Tha Liks rock that shit that
have all ya niggaz feelin it
Killing it (killing it)
killing it (killing it)
J-Ro is up next to flow
Dat's me I be killing it
(killing it)
when I be feeling it
Got rum in my cup, best
believe I won't be spilling it
Yo Xzibit (whattup Ro)
I got to know
Do I got that Likwid flow
(oh fo' sho') well here I go
Mida, mida, down the barrel
of my heater I torch ya,
then skeet out
in my Porsche two-seater
I'm from the home of
rattlesnakes and golden bears
And Astro-vans with swivel
chairs hoes come in pairs
Plus, makin money's in my genes
That's why I got money in my
jeans, I got a craving
My mind craves the knowledge,
my pockets crave the cash
My mouth craves the brew,
and my Johnson craves the ass
Who's on blast, Tha Liks baby,
don't twist it Just rock it,
got your girl's number
in my change pocket
What's her name Stella,
if she's on me kinda hella?
Voule vou couche vic moir?
is what I tell her
I get freaky like Friday,
why dey, try to get loose
Wack MC's are like brown guts.
they have no use
I just got off the court,
where I was whooping
some cats in basketball,
here's a question that
I have to ask y'all
Who be killing it,
is it the ladies?
Who be killing it,
is it the fellas?
Who be killing it,
is it the b-boys?
Who be killing it,
is it the gangsters?
Who be killing it,
is it the rastas?
Who be killing it, killing it,
killing it, killing it...
See I be killing it,
yeah, when I be feeling it
This is dedicated to the
niggaz that be stealing shit
Straight from the bottom of my
black-ass heart
The untamed feel no shame,
on top of the game
Mr. Big Bad Insane,
black John McClane
Look listen and learn,
you only get what you earn
So I'ma hustle like fuck
regardless, watch my smoke
Go straight for the throat,
we known for rockin the boat
It's hard to find like the
grade A shit, with no cuts
Trying to stack like King Tut,
and still bang the microphone
up Demanding,
clear lane for crash landing
If anything I'm guaranteed
to be the Last Man Standing
Pick a number
motherfucker whassup
The circumstance make you shit
in your pants, and we advance
as an avalanche of soul,
and everything that
shine ain't gold
Just cause niggaz got brew
don't make em nickel proof
My record contract reads
hit man for hire
Xzibit showing grace under fire
Tha Alkaholiks killing it
(killing it) killing it
(killing it)
Tha Liks rock that shit
that have all y'all niggaz
feeling it
Killing it (drilling it)
drilling it (drilling it)
What, yeah, bring it live
with the... yeah
Feeling it (feeling it)
killing it (killing it)
Like this Party down,
party down, party down!
yeah, cause I be killing it
(What, stabbin it, beating it)
Y'all niggaz ain't heard no shit
like this out the West coast
Say what, wha-what,
wha-what what?
I say what, wha-what,
wha-what what?
It's the likwid crew
cause we be feelin it...
Say what, say what, say what
wha-what wha-what what?