Carry The Weight Lyrics
| 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! |
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