DJ Hurricane, Xzibit, Pharoahe Monch, Gipp - Connect ( Don’t Sleep) lyrics
Xzibit [Alvin Nathaniel Joiner] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[DJ Hurricane, Xzibit, Pharoahe Monch, Gipp - Connect Don’t Sleep lyrics]
East, West, check this out
Check it, ye yeah, ye yeah
East East, West West, South South
I got that East coast connect
West coast connect
Dirty South connect, so show some respect
When my niggas comin through you
See we comin correct
Who are you, what you do
Who you tryin to threat?
I'm the wrong cat to call out we fall out
The police gon' have some dead
Bodies to haul out
All out in the open for the world to see
Avire-X to the Z-I, B-I T
VIP, you're small time, three on three
Cause you can't ball accurately
Tackle the beast
Stomp it down, slap it with heat
Bitch behave
Shit, we blaze to make a nigga act his age
I'm tryin to write the phrase that pays
You kick it with gays, dykes
And all type of wackness
Preach what you practice
Here we seperate the real
Niggas from the actors
A&R's, MC searchin, suck my cactus!
Blackness surround your sight and sound
As Xzibit hit you and you hit the ground
My chips ain't never gon' be down
Watch me smoke and flatline the first nigga
To cross this line
It's the Gipp Goodie, we kick the soul slang
To yo' block, or they streets
We all gon' hang we like to shine and ride
Bump corners in our bumper cars
Top down, with the candy paint job
Import export up and down the highway
Old ladies transportin straight
Through the skyways
In the corner in the five I got purple haze
Fat knot short sess with the tree ton
These streets we run, rapper refund
You ridin up but we want
Yo' flows old like Girbauds we hold
Everything it takes to create the odes
To North to the West to the South again
If it's war that you want just pull the pin
Rules we don't break 'em, we refuse to bend
If you don't build right you
Better take yo' ass home
Cause some catch stray bullets all alone
I got the Chevy Impala shit
Street scholar with
Collarless, Japanese aikido with
Rottweiler mixed
Top dollar dick now, swallow my whole nut rap
Gun in my mouth, pop shit, still sayin
"Fuck that" you have to listen, brew
Trapped in a tragic addiction
Styles, multiply like Japanese mathematicians
Cut cause chaos - my kicks kill criminals
I'm the subliminal Adolf
I'm the bomb that's attached to
The time of a ticker figure or swastika
Quicker to pick a form of execution, pull it
Bullet, to the head instead of eletrocution
The rambunctious, bump in yo' trunk shit
Totally insane, Hurricane with
Pharoahe Monch, gipp
Xzibit the West coast we got
New York wearin slippers and
The South wearin hoodies
Ye yeah, uh huh, ye yeah give it up, uh huh
(Dirty South) ye yeah, ye yeah
Give it up, uh huh, give it up, shake it
Uh, huh, kick it (Dirty South) uh huh
Shake it uh huh, shake it
C'mon, give it up (Dirty South)
Fades out
Check it, ye yeah, ye yeah
East East, West West, South South
I got that East coast connect
West coast connect
Dirty South connect, so show some respect
When my niggas comin through you
See we comin correct
Who are you, what you do
Who you tryin to threat?
I'm the wrong cat to call out we fall out
The police gon' have some dead
Bodies to haul out
All out in the open for the world to see
Avire-X to the Z-I, B-I T
VIP, you're small time, three on three
Cause you can't ball accurately
Tackle the beast
Stomp it down, slap it with heat
Bitch behave
Shit, we blaze to make a nigga act his age
I'm tryin to write the phrase that pays
You kick it with gays, dykes
And all type of wackness
Preach what you practice
Here we seperate the real
Niggas from the actors
A&R's, MC searchin, suck my cactus!
Blackness surround your sight and sound
As Xzibit hit you and you hit the ground
My chips ain't never gon' be down
Watch me smoke and flatline the first nigga
To cross this line
It's the Gipp Goodie, we kick the soul slang
To yo' block, or they streets
We all gon' hang we like to shine and ride
Bump corners in our bumper cars
Top down, with the candy paint job
Import export up and down the highway
Old ladies transportin straight
Through the skyways
In the corner in the five I got purple haze
Fat knot short sess with the tree ton
These streets we run, rapper refund
You ridin up but we want
Yo' flows old like Girbauds we hold
Everything it takes to create the odes
To North to the West to the South again
If it's war that you want just pull the pin
Rules we don't break 'em, we refuse to bend
If you don't build right you
Better take yo' ass home
Cause some catch stray bullets all alone
I got the Chevy Impala shit
Street scholar with
Collarless, Japanese aikido with
Rottweiler mixed
Top dollar dick now, swallow my whole nut rap
Gun in my mouth, pop shit, still sayin
"Fuck that" you have to listen, brew
Trapped in a tragic addiction
Styles, multiply like Japanese mathematicians
Cut cause chaos - my kicks kill criminals
I'm the subliminal Adolf
I'm the bomb that's attached to
The time of a ticker figure or swastika
Quicker to pick a form of execution, pull it
Bullet, to the head instead of eletrocution
The rambunctious, bump in yo' trunk shit
Totally insane, Hurricane with
Pharoahe Monch, gipp
Xzibit the West coast we got
New York wearin slippers and
The South wearin hoodies
Ye yeah, uh huh, ye yeah give it up, uh huh
(Dirty South) ye yeah, ye yeah
Give it up, uh huh, give it up, shake it
Uh, huh, kick it (Dirty South) uh huh
Shake it uh huh, shake it
C'mon, give it up (Dirty South)
Fades out