Check It Out (X-Filez Version)

[Intro]
1-2
Check it out y'all
(Inaudible)

[Verse 1: Grand Daddy I.U.]
Now who up in this bitch want test me?
Best be wearin' your vest, so get your chest punched like Nesby
Now let's see, when y'all motherfuckers stand the rain
I bring pain, buckin' like fuckin' John Wayne, insane
On some ''Son of Sam'' shit like David Berkowitz
God, you better check your hoe 'fore I hurt the bitch
It's all about the you, ain't nothin' new
I come through, bringin' it to your whole doo-doo ass crew
Ya won't retire my guns for hire, call me Sire
My G's smoke more trees than a fuckin' forest fire (Fire)
I attack, set the crap to your dome
When you creep through these streets, you best to pack your chrome
The Mac who's home, dick in hoes' vaginas, get damned
Bring on your whole camp, son, you get blown like an amp
When my trigger clap, I split a nigga cap
You told a nigga, God, nigga how the fuck you figured that?
My jam be packed with players and Macs, layers is staffed
Chicks with ass tryna gas me for snaps
No half [?], the only thing you get is some dick in bed
Picture me trickin' bread on some chicken head
Hell no, don't even think it
And that goes for hoes from Halle Berry down to Jada Pinkett
My dick be strictly up in pretty gal pickin' me, lickin' me
Head to toe, it be me in your hoe
You ain't know, well son you better ask 'fore my Beretta blast
Even your home shit bro like shattered glass
Keep my .44 hangin' like a Western flick
Case you niggas set trippin', want test my clique?

[Interlude]
I.U. comin' through with the X-Filez
Know what I'm sayin', right about now
It's the Stevie hook-up comin' through
[?] wonder bustin' in the head, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2: X-Filez]
Out the X-Filez, the Salomon detachee gotta follow
Static I solve the problem when my fist leaves the bottom of your chest
Now you chumps too, eternal rest, save your breath
Nevertheless I ain't tryna hear no mess, if you test I gas
You don't worship the present today
Like the manager gettin' sent to your ass and [?] verses I conquer
Street dwellers be them Bloodlines too
And they shackled up, the sellers get your weight up, hold up
Tender ass [?] dream to be the mercury chief
Let's see if he wants some midnight parties
Slide us anyone who wants to get hit
Hook up Bloodline, bring drastic ghetto hits
Egyptians signin' vision, hostin' brother with exhibition
Do I, mad [?] keep this guy wrestled competition?
So earthlings, I pull the force indication
Bloodline warriors, we're sent to blow your nation, what

[Verse 3: X-Filez]
Ha-ha, yeah, yeah
If you wanna test, the X will stress what you speakin'
Not Puertorican plus I gets kneep into your breathin'
Like smoke, pry and quote my note and that ass'll get broke
So feel the raptures, I might even lash ya, what?
Whose infamous believe a microphone split?
No shit, you're locked, we got the block locked down with 4-pound
Illegal, my desert eagle searchin' for a spray, I spray fuckin' AK
I throw the Fo-Fifth with the gift to gap
Now I stab your brain and still maintain simple and plain
My self-composure reaches limits, timid like bird
For what is worth, I'm livin' in a fuckin' curse
My style is seriously illiodic
Now hook the phonics when hooked on chronic I gets bionic
A fella with his cellar full of clever ideas
Plus that bullshit you stressin', I'm not tryna hear, stop
Listen, X is on a mission with rhythm
Dissin' wack MC's and sparkin' up mad izm

[Outro: X-Filez]
Yeah, this is how we do
Yo, we represent for the crew, the Bloodline and I.U
This is how we do for the fam, I'm gonna make a motherfuckin' grand
Movin' on like this, no doubt
Uh-huh, whoo, whoo...