Song | Carry The Weight |
Artist | Xzibit |
Album | At The Speed Of Life |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Intro:xzibit, [j-ro] | |
I really wish i could you know at twenty-one | |
Youknowhati'msayin',he he, yo yo | |
[i'ma tell you exactly why i do the things | |
I do, youknowhati'm sayin'] | |
Gotta carry the weight youknowhati'msayin' | |
Go ahead | |
Yeah! i break it down like this | |
Verse one: | |
You see i don't like to remenisce about the past | |
The lower class, no clout livin' hand to mouth | |
Each and every wrong move the police keep count | |
Make it real fuckin' easy to get streched out | |
I was at the funeral when it all began | |
You know the painful transition from a boy to men | |
I lost sight of my mother at the age of nine | |
Didn't understand death nearly lost my mind | |
But see life moves on and broke niggas can't change it | |
Age ten, new step family arrangement | |
At thirteen, i started gettin' hair on my dick | |
And noticed me and my sister were gettin' treated like shit | |
I would forever be hit with anything in reach | |
Then my father would proceed to go to church and preach | |
About forgiveness, patience all the shit that he lacked | |
Gettin' jump when he said and the head gat cracked | |
Physical contact was in form of a slap | |
At the age of fifteen xzibit now hit back | |
Courtesy of my stepbrother, who taught me to scrap | |
Left the bitch on the ground with her eyes on black | |
Ran away from the house of teresa and nate | |
Into juvenile detention where i built up hate | |
I don't remember the date of the judical debate | |
But legally i was now in custody of the state | |
Chorus: | |
And niggas wonder why i sit up in the club and drink | |
Say what's up to xzibit and i still don't speak | |
I'm trying to contemplate the next move to make | |
Gotta find some way to release this hate | |
And niggas wonder why i sit up in the club and drink | |
Say what's up to xzibit and i still don't speak | |
I'm trying to contemplate the next move to make | |
Gotta find some way xzibit carry the weight | |
Interlude: xzibit, [j-ro] | |
[yeah it's fucked up though man] | |
[youknowhati'msayin'] | |
Yo | |
[the fuck you doin' in jail] | |
Insane man, i don't know man, he he he | |
[yeah wats goin' on down there, gotta get out dude] | |
Yeah i be out in couple of weeks man | |
Youknowi'msayin' | |
[it's popin' man] | |
It's cool yo fuck that | |
[it's popin' out here] | |
They can go on and on for that | |
[i'm tellin' you it's popin' man come home] | |
Verse two: | |
And that was worse then the treatment i was gettin' at home | |
But only now i was fucked up plus all alone | |
My father talkin' all crazy to me over the phone | |
Turned age sixteen now on my own | |
Started running with cats who carried gats cause they had too | |
With no hesitation lock load then blast you | |
Without a hastle we in a town of hicks | |
Fuckin' all these chicks | |
Sellin' rock by the bricks | |
So we feelin' like we mothafuckin' nino brown | |
At the house when the mothafuckin' man touched down | |
Screamin' demands "let me see your goddamn hands (now)" | |
A.t.f. cause of handguns and contraban | |
We never kept it in the house | |
So of course we clounded | |
Only found one pistol took us all down town | |
We be out by the end of the afternoon | |
Gettin' drunk on the strip let the system boom! | |
Who would assume mr. qk would chill with a wife | |
Ty and matt caught bodies | |
Now they spend there life behind bars | |
Catchin' scars that will not heal | |
Niggas don't know the half about keepin' it real | |
Chorus 1 1/2 | |
Outro: | |
Like this | |
Like this, like that | |
Yeah! gotta carry the weight | |
Like this euh! | |
Bringin live | |
Yeah! yeah! like this | |
It's xzibit | |
Gotta carry the weight | |
Like that yo! | |
Like that yo! |
Intro: xzibit, jro | |
I really wish i could you know at twentyone | |
Youknowhati' msayin', he he, yo yo | |
i' ma tell you exactly why i do the things | |
I do, youknowhati' m sayin' | |
Gotta carry the weight youknowhati' msayin' | |
Go ahead | |
Yeah! i break it down like this | |
Verse one: | |
You see i don' t like to remenisce about the past | |
The lower class, no clout livin' hand to mouth | |
Each and every wrong move the police keep count | |
Make it real fuckin' easy to get streched out | |
I was at the funeral when it all began | |
You know the painful transition from a boy to men | |
I lost sight of my mother at the age of nine | |
Didn' t understand death nearly lost my mind | |
But see life moves on and broke niggas can' t change it | |
Age ten, new step family arrangement | |
At thirteen, i started gettin' hair on my dick | |
And noticed me and my sister were gettin' treated like shit | |
I would forever be hit with anything in reach | |
Then my father would proceed to go to church and preach | |
About forgiveness, patience all the shit that he lacked | |
Gettin' jump when he said and the head gat cracked | |
Physical contact was in form of a slap | |
At the age of fifteen xzibit now hit back | |
Courtesy of my stepbrother, who taught me to scrap | |
Left the bitch on the ground with her eyes on black | |
Ran away from the house of teresa and nate | |
Into juvenile detention where i built up hate | |
I don' t remember the date of the judical debate | |
But legally i was now in custody of the state | |
Chorus: | |
And niggas wonder why i sit up in the club and drink | |
Say what' s up to xzibit and i still don' t speak | |
I' m trying to contemplate the next move to make | |
Gotta find some way to release this hate | |
And niggas wonder why i sit up in the club and drink | |
Say what' s up to xzibit and i still don' t speak | |
I' m trying to contemplate the next move to make | |
Gotta find some way xzibit carry the weight | |
Interlude: xzibit, jro | |
yeah it' s fucked up though man | |
youknowhati' msayin' | |
Yo | |
the fuck you doin' in jail | |
Insane man, i don' t know man, he he he | |
yeah wats goin' on down there, gotta get out dude | |
Yeah i be out in couple of weeks man | |
Youknowi' msayin' | |
it' s popin' man | |
It' s cool yo fuck that | |
it' s popin' out here | |
They can go on and on for that | |
i' m tellin' you it' s popin' man come home | |
Verse two: | |
And that was worse then the treatment i was gettin' at home | |
But only now i was fucked up plus all alone | |
My father talkin' all crazy to me over the phone | |
Turned age sixteen now on my own | |
Started running with cats who carried gats cause they had too | |
With no hesitation lock load then blast you | |
Without a hastle we in a town of hicks | |
Fuckin' all these chicks | |
Sellin' rock by the bricks | |
So we feelin' like we mothafuckin' nino brown | |
At the house when the mothafuckin' man touched down | |
Screamin' demands " let me see your goddamn hands now" | |
A. t. f. cause of handguns and contraban | |
We never kept it in the house | |
So of course we clounded | |
Only found one pistol took us all down town | |
We be out by the end of the afternoon | |
Gettin' drunk on the strip let the system boom! | |
Who would assume mr. qk would chill with a wife | |
Ty and matt caught bodies | |
Now they spend there life behind bars | |
Catchin' scars that will not heal | |
Niggas don' t know the half about keepin' it real | |
Chorus 1 1 2 | |
Outro: | |
Like this | |
Like this, like that | |
Yeah! gotta carry the weight | |
Like this euh! | |
Bringin live | |
Yeah! yeah! like this | |
It' s xzibit | |
Gotta carry the weight | |
Like that yo! | |
Like that yo! |
Intro: xzibit, jro | |
I really wish i could you know at twentyone | |
Youknowhati' msayin', he he, yo yo | |
i' ma tell you exactly why i do the things | |
I do, youknowhati' m sayin' | |
Gotta carry the weight youknowhati' msayin' | |
Go ahead | |
Yeah! i break it down like this | |
Verse one: | |
You see i don' t like to remenisce about the past | |
The lower class, no clout livin' hand to mouth | |
Each and every wrong move the police keep count | |
Make it real fuckin' easy to get streched out | |
I was at the funeral when it all began | |
You know the painful transition from a boy to men | |
I lost sight of my mother at the age of nine | |
Didn' t understand death nearly lost my mind | |
But see life moves on and broke niggas can' t change it | |
Age ten, new step family arrangement | |
At thirteen, i started gettin' hair on my dick | |
And noticed me and my sister were gettin' treated like shit | |
I would forever be hit with anything in reach | |
Then my father would proceed to go to church and preach | |
About forgiveness, patience all the shit that he lacked | |
Gettin' jump when he said and the head gat cracked | |
Physical contact was in form of a slap | |
At the age of fifteen xzibit now hit back | |
Courtesy of my stepbrother, who taught me to scrap | |
Left the bitch on the ground with her eyes on black | |
Ran away from the house of teresa and nate | |
Into juvenile detention where i built up hate | |
I don' t remember the date of the judical debate | |
But legally i was now in custody of the state | |
Chorus: | |
And niggas wonder why i sit up in the club and drink | |
Say what' s up to xzibit and i still don' t speak | |
I' m trying to contemplate the next move to make | |
Gotta find some way to release this hate | |
And niggas wonder why i sit up in the club and drink | |
Say what' s up to xzibit and i still don' t speak | |
I' m trying to contemplate the next move to make | |
Gotta find some way xzibit carry the weight | |
Interlude: xzibit, jro | |
yeah it' s fucked up though man | |
youknowhati' msayin' | |
Yo | |
the fuck you doin' in jail | |
Insane man, i don' t know man, he he he | |
yeah wats goin' on down there, gotta get out dude | |
Yeah i be out in couple of weeks man | |
Youknowi' msayin' | |
it' s popin' man | |
It' s cool yo fuck that | |
it' s popin' out here | |
They can go on and on for that | |
i' m tellin' you it' s popin' man come home | |
Verse two: | |
And that was worse then the treatment i was gettin' at home | |
But only now i was fucked up plus all alone | |
My father talkin' all crazy to me over the phone | |
Turned age sixteen now on my own | |
Started running with cats who carried gats cause they had too | |
With no hesitation lock load then blast you | |
Without a hastle we in a town of hicks | |
Fuckin' all these chicks | |
Sellin' rock by the bricks | |
So we feelin' like we mothafuckin' nino brown | |
At the house when the mothafuckin' man touched down | |
Screamin' demands " let me see your goddamn hands now" | |
A. t. f. cause of handguns and contraban | |
We never kept it in the house | |
So of course we clounded | |
Only found one pistol took us all down town | |
We be out by the end of the afternoon | |
Gettin' drunk on the strip let the system boom! | |
Who would assume mr. qk would chill with a wife | |
Ty and matt caught bodies | |
Now they spend there life behind bars | |
Catchin' scars that will not heal | |
Niggas don' t know the half about keepin' it real | |
Chorus 1 1 2 | |
Outro: | |
Like this | |
Like this, like that | |
Yeah! gotta carry the weight | |
Like this euh! | |
Bringin live | |
Yeah! yeah! like this | |
It' s xzibit | |
Gotta carry the weight | |
Like that yo! | |
Like that yo! |