Artist: Xzibit
Album: Full Circle
Song: Rollin’ feat. Jelly Roll
Typed by: The crew at the XzibitCentral.com Forums (special thanks goes to Lady Di and Madziool)
Please send corrections to webmaster@xzibitcentral.com
Opener – Jelly   Roll
Yeaaah
See I was dippin’ thru the   city with a big ol (pistol)
Checkin’ out these ni*gas   in the range (rover)
I’ve been smokin’, drinkin’ and I’m kinda tipsssy   (yeeah)
Lookin’ thru my rearview they followin’ me   (huuh)
I wonder why the f**k are they are followin’   me (huuh)
I see them ni*gas creepin’ 2 cars behind me   (hmmm)
You’ll never catch me slippin’ just me and my (piece)
You must be   smokin’ if you think Ima call the   (police)
Verse 1 – Xzibit
I’m a beast, still got’em   creased
Still got my converse stompin’ down the concrete (yeeeeaaaaah)
Black and blue   Bugatti this is strong arm robbery, you can’t deny me
My garage a mirage, a   collage of chrome
I look alive with the 9 when I leave my home
Been on   tour in Japan, been relaxed in Rome
This is grown man buziness, recognize the tone
If I don’t recognize the number,   I won’t answer my phone
Rockin’ every area code,   still stay in my zone
I don’t play no f**kin’ games now, b*tch I’m   grown
Now crack your f**kin’ neck to this sh*t I’m   on
(yeeeeah)
Chorus
64 chromed out rag top   (rollin’)
Get your weight up cause X can’t stop (rollin’)
Ni*gas thought   it was over but X came back (rollin’)
I’ve got my own   sack to roll so I’m rollin’
Verse 2
My release bang thru the streets
We hang like orangutans, mangle   the beat
Ni*gas hatin’ gravitatin’ to the lies that   they tell
My reality takin’ over where that fiction fails
What the hell, might as well show the cards I’m   holdin’
Sweet taste aromatic backwood (rollin’)
Got the Range Rover super   charged, complete with the strut kit
My chain hang to my dang-a-lang, what   tha f**k b*tch
Boomerang my change, I re-arrange some   thangs
My slang clip bang and expose they brains
Then I pray… Our Father   who art in Heaven
Got people jumpin’ out the building like 9-11 (person   falling)
Malcolm X to the Z landin’ on em like   Plymouth Rock
You get knocked out, get socked in your   f**kin’ mouth
Now everybody knows the buziness, you want it, come get it
But if you rollin’ throw   it up and let me know that you wit it
Chorus – 2 x’s
Verse 3
I repeat my name over beats
Binge on   the finer things, you cringe in defeat
Escalation elevation to another   plateau
Sometimes you take a few steps back to mentally grow
Here we go   what you know campaign in motion
Straight west coast   in west worldwide (rollin’)
Got that Astin Martin,   DB 9 equipped with a stash box
In case I ever find myself alone in a tight   spot
Strip down my frame repave my lane insanewith my ink pen Citzen Kane
Don’t complain when   the chamber slide back and bang
Make it taste like   sh*t when you sayin’ my name
It’s the Golden State heavyweight holding the   belt
I’m a one (man) army ya’ll, I don’t need no   help
This is the (pistol) I use to protect myself
Careful   these hammerhead hollow points is bad for your health my nig
Chorus – 2 x’s
Opener – fades with (police, police, police)

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