Intro: Xzibit, [J-Ro]       Verse One:      The official representative, LAC   This is phrophecy manifested by X to the Z   Victory, strike a B-Boy stance in khaki pants   Never get along like red and black ants, advance   When your staring and this concrete that move like liquid   Like a nigga withouth legs, I ain't tryin to kick it   To much to finish, a menace, without enought time   My mind only give punchline, you probably thinkin of the wrong kind   Cause if it jokes, nigga know   The kind that drop on your eyes, your ears, your nose, and your throat   I promote self-defense not dollars and sense   Kick it with scholars and pimps, you just the last part over the fence   Assed out in the open, while you was hopin that Xzibit was second rate   But I refuse to make; just another record in the crate   I think not, got bee-bops   I bring it to your house like pizza      "Today we are on the streets of South Central Los Angelos, a fight for   survival"      "We have people that are conditioned not to expect to live past age thirty.   They no longer. Once they no longer care they're extremely dangerous."      Verse Two:      Stand at attention, make sure you keep your piece clean   When I release steam, police crime scenes to guillotines   Hit and decapatate the bird case, featherweight   Critical thinking, while you at water that concentrate   Xzibit crash the gate, heavyweight, box em in   Seal off the exits, then cut off your Oxygen   Xzibit run with a regiment of veterans   I only like to come out Late Night, like Dave Letterman   Time for some medicine, cause niggas bout to get sick   Callin me a hater cause I don't ride dicks   Read my lips, we got problems like Bloods and Crips   Love the sound of clips when I know my shit   Chamber Music, this is for the ones with stone-face   That catch you at the right time in the wrong place   We unsafe, One-fifty-one with no chase and no ice   Take away your life like three strikes      Yeah, come on, Chamber Music      Verse Three:      So now Xzibit got a little money, I think its funny    How motherfuckers think I'm supposed to Cher/share like Sonny   Clarify, you don't work you don't eat, I repeat   You don't eat you get weak, catch a fragile physique   Accomplish more in one day, than you can do in a week   The X-Man, Wolverine, one swing to make the cut clean   And the wrong things manifested in flesh   Fuck the game, I take the test, graduate, pass to the S-Class   Catch a roadrash, all you smell is hash   Chronic mix, bumpin the Liks   And dick you like a Hebron fix   Bear-arm from here to a hundred-tweny meters   Get black-walled, modern day Lee Harvey Oswald   The assassin, brother who came blastin   Take it without askin, rappers is all fashion   Xzibit keep mashing through   Got any lost words? I got two   Drive up, on you like that!      Once again Chamber Music, what what, yeah, what the deal? It's Xzibit.      Get on the ground, get on the ground! Hands on the back of your head, Don'   Move Don't Move! Get on the ground! * beat to fade *