Tom Green
Tom Green FreeStyle With Xzibit
[Verse 1: Tom Green]
So what you wanna do, what you gonna wanna say?
When I bust a rap in an old school way
I rock it from the break of dawn 'till the break of day
Don't come a-knocking if you don't wanna play
Well if you wanna play, you may get wet
I heard your wicky-whack track playing on cassette
So microphone check, microphone, mic check
You haven't heard me yet? You better hit the deck
I'm coming around the mountain with a red Corvette
And I'm coming at you live on your television set
There's nothing that I want that I don't got yet
There's no way to take it if you never make a bet

So Xzibit grab the mic, let me hear you rock some shit doing what you like - check it

[Verse 2: Xzibit]
Shotgun fanatic, who right back at it?
You get mopped and dropped, like a filthy habit
X, snatch and grab it, got you hoping I fail
If I fail you'd be happy, like a faggot in jail
I'm full retail, guaranteed to sell
In my jet black McLaren, with my mademoiselle
I'm strong-arm steady, you fragile and frail
You think you ready for these steady hitters? I can't tell
Sex sells, so fuck you all, came to bubble and ball
You getting shut down, soon as I touch down
Bust rounds, enemies slayed and cut down
Fully automatic, spitting rounds with no sound
Break down your whole regime, with my homie Tom Green
In a black limousine. Hurrr!
[Verse 3: Tom Green]
But I don't got change I do a lot of that shit but I lay no claims
I'm begging for the wealth, I'm begging for fame
But baby ain't that shit, just one and the same
Yo I waltz in the room people know my name
Abide by the rules and I feel no pain
And if you get lippy I could use refrain
I break you like a freaking bone, or a link in a chain
I got a lot of people nervous, I'm taking the blame
I drop another fucking bomb on Saddam Hussein
I don't smoke shit laced with cocaine
And if you're not careful you'll get the wrong Green
I never meant to take the lords name in vain
But oh my God that shit was strange, man!

[Verse 4: Tom Green]
Hollywood California that's that’s where i’m programming the beats
That make you freak and make the people go bananas
I’m going and blowing and flowing, showing the people that don’t know
So give me the microphone and let my dope gold rope show
Your bitch is like Yoko, but I'm a Ringo
So move to the back yo, and check my single
I'm packing them up and then backing them up
Together like Pringles
And I'm backing them up to the back of the pack
Like a bad case of shingles
Now, you watch the OC, cause you're a pussy
I hit you with a 500 ton blast of George Bushy!!
You think my job is cushy
But then I'm clapping and rapping clapping the bass (?) to wear glasses faster then a glass of whiskey (?)
You think I'm kind of friskey, but for a dollar fifty
I'm flipping the lip that making you slip because I'm kind of nifty
I hitch hike from Manhattan to Mississippi
And then I felt shitty, and oh what a pitty