| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 2:46 | 
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'...Boulevard, (garbled) in the building next to the location.
Suspects are seen climbing out of both windows. Male hispanic, and a possible male black. They have their vehic' er van parked outside...' This pig harassed the whole neighborhood Well this pig worked at the station This pig he killed my Homeboy So the fuckin' pig went on a vacation This pig he is the chief Got a brother pig Captain O'Malley He's got a son that's a pig too He's collectin' pay-offs from a dark alley This pig is known as a Narco If he's a pig or not, we know that he could be This pig he's a fuckin' fag So all his homepigs they call him a pussy Well this pig he's really cool So in this class we know he rides all alone Well this pig's standin' eatin' donuts While some motherfuckers out robbin' your home This pig he's a big punk And I know that he can't stand the sight of me 'Cause pigs don't like it when ya act smart And when ya tell 'em that you're a group from society This pig works for the mafia Makin' some money off crack But this little pig got caught So when he gets to the Pen it's all about the pay-back 'Cause once he gets to the Pen They won't provide the little pig with a bullet-proof vest To protect him from some mad nigga Who he shot in the chest and placed under arrest An' it's all about breakin' off sausage Do ya feel sorry for the poor little swine? Niggas wanna do him in the ass Just ta pay his ass back, so they're standin' in line That fuckin' pig Look what he got himself into Now they're gonna make some pigs feet outta this little punk Anybody like pork-chops? How 'bout a ham sandwich? How 'bout a ham sandwich? |
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| 2. |
| 4:12 |
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"It's another one of them old phunky Cypress Hill things, you know what I'm
sayin'? And it goes like this:" Hey, don't miss out on what you're passing You're missing the hootah Of the funky buddha Eluder Of your fucked-up styles, I get wicked So come on as Cypress starts to kick it 'Cause we're like the outlaws stridin' While suckers are hidin' Jump behind the bush when you see me drivin' By Hanging out the window With my magnum taking out some putos Acting kind of loco I'm just another local Kid from the street getting paid from my vocals Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand I'm ignoring all the dumb shit Yo, because nothing is coming from it I'm not gonna waste no time fuckin' around my gat straight humming Hummin', Coming at ya Yeah ya know I had to gatt ya Time for some action Just a fraction of friction I got the clearance To run the interference Into your satellite Shining a battle light Sen got the gatt and I know that he'll gatt you right Here's an example Just a little sample How I could just kill a man One-time tried to come in my home Take my chrome I said, "Yo, it's on!" Take cover son or you're assed-out How do you like my chrome then I watched the rookie pass out Didn't have to blast him but I did anyway That young punk had to pay So I just killed a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man It's gonna be a long time before I finish One of the many missions that I had to establish To lite My spliff ignite You with insight So if you ain't down, bullshit! Say some punk tried to get you for your auto Would you call the One-time and play the role model? No! I think you'll play like a thug Next you hear the shot of a magnum slug Humming coming at ya Yeah ya know I'm gonna gatt ya! How you know where I'm at when you haven't been where I've been? Understand where I'm coming from When you're up on the hill in your big home I'm out here risking my dome Just for a bucket Or a fast duck it Just to stay alive, yo I got to say "fuck it!" Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand How I could just kill a man Here is something you can't understand "All I wanted was a Pepsi!" "What does it all mean?" |
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| 3. |
| 4:03 |
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Verse One
Well I′m an alley cat, some say a dirty rat On my side you see my gat, see I′m all of that Sendin off buck shots for I′m gonna wetcha Running hard, but I′m still coming to getcha Thinking like a peace smoke, comin on a homicide You talkin shit, try to take me for a ride I′m not a bad guy, but I′m the funky feel one Finger on the trigger with my hands upon the steel Lettin out a bullet, this is going boo-yaa You′re stuck in my so hood, so what ya gonna do now? Being the hunted one is no fun Here I come son, yo I think you better run Better run more, and move a little faster Second of thought and I′m coming to blast ya With my Chorus Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump Left hand on a forty, [puffin onna blunt] Pumped my shotgun, [niggaz didn′t jump] Lala la la lala la laaaaa... Verse Two Comin at you like a stiff blow, fuckin up your program Ain′t takin shit from you him or no man Master mind maniac and a menace soooo How they want to pass sentence All because a nigga tried to play me on the trigger He missed, so now the nigga′s pissed Rude and crude like a pitbull, get to the point Your fuckin car to get pulled, now I′m headed up the river with a boat and no paddle And I′m handin out beatdowns I′m headed up the river with a boat and no paddle And I′m handin out beatdowns [get your face down!] Put me in chains, try to beat my brains I can get out, but the grudge remains When I see ya punk ass, I′m gonna getcha Fucking do ya, shotgun go boo-yaa! Chorus Verse Three Kickin that funky Cypress Hill shit Take a lot of mental for the blunted to chill with, Cuz I′m the chill one, known to get ill one They stepped to the Hill ″What′s up?″, I had to kill one Now I′m headed up the river with a boat and no paddle And they got me on lock down Headed up the river with a boat and no paddle And they got me on lock down Hit me like a nigga who done lost his mind Cause I ain′t goin out like a spineless jellyfish Some say life is a bitch Ask that punk who dug his own ditch Out for the Hill fuckin up at a party Tried to get funny, put a hole in his body Lala la la lala la laaa Look at all of those funeral cars Cause I′ma Chorus |
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| 4. |
| 3:34 |
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Mad man's gonna gat ya, quick with a quete
you see a game, no thee ain't no jugete roll it like a psycho with the windows rolled down who you lookin at, you tryin to play me clown. Plato, simon you want static while you reach for your gat to load the automatic. BOOYAA, spittin out buck shots, boy me say blood clot, now you can call a pig. Cuz no one can handle ajuanta el loco insane in the brain you get the bullet. 'And a hole on the head , a fuckin hole in you r head a hole in your head, a hole in your head. You get a hole in your head, in your mother fuckin head a hole in the head, a hole in the head'. 8 barrles pumpin, system thumpin see a fine hyna come on baby jumpin. aste paca here let me tell you something you and me ruca we should be humpin. If honew likes the mack homies got her in the bag but there's vatos rollin up and they're stickin out their flag. He jumpins out with a sag, a where you from homes it's on, he sees him reachin for his chrome buck shot to the dome jumps in the brougham honey's in the back, but she just wants to go home. But he dips to the store, homeboy needs a 40 whiteboy at the counters thinkin oh lordie lordie. Pushin on a botton panickin for nothin pigs on the way hey yo I smell bacon. Dips out the store one-time hits the corner then he hits the fuckin alley like if homes was Pop Warner Still had the 40 comin out the alley seen the chief son pig officer O Malley In a black -n- white thinkin he's gonna jack 'em right wrong, it's gonna be on that pig better saca la chrome. And by the way you get a hole on the head , a fuckin hole in your head a hole in your head, a hole in your head. You get a hole in your head, in your mother fuckin head a hole in the head, a hole in the head'. Pigs rollin up and now he's really baffled brothas thinkin dam I never got that gaffled. Beat down all the way to the station gaffled up from a false accusation on to the pen, you know homes the pinta where the attitudes are flyin and the punks will be dyin made a comb to a shank I'm gonna stick ya get with ya you know homes the picture. you get a hole on the head , a fuckin hole in your head a hole in your head, a hole in your head. You get a hole in your head, in your mother fuckin head a hole in the head, a hole in the head'. |
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| 5. |
| 0:42 |
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Ultraviolet dreams
Take a hit of that stuff Ultraviolet dreams That's some good shit man! Stuff should light now Oh that shit's good man! Ultraviolet dreams It's like the biggest joint man (Oh no!) That's the hook up! Ultraviolet dreams Hook up, this is! (Pass that shit homey) Pass it around (That stuff right there) Ultraviolet dreams Orderly, hey I'm holdin it Let me see that Ultraviolet dreams That's some good shit man! God damn! Feed me That's some good shit *inhales, exhales* |
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| 6. |
| 3:17 |
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(B-Real)
Yo light one, ignite one, draw me like the buddha You say I'm the joint, but you can call me hooda Computer, wizard, the butcher of scissors Cut me up and spark and roll me up, like a blizzard Dwellin your cells up, lungs start to swell up Your pipe's gettin crowded, yo just forget about it Me, is potent, so bring an opponent You could suck on it, shit I know you wanted to Feel the effects of the high I know you feel the effects of the high Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother? (Sen) B-Real, light another (B-Real) I'm smoked out, not on a menthol cigarette How could you figure, or even, consider that I'm, a weak seed, no, I'm the humble weed ?, hash spliff this tweed actin type of stylin, how do you spell it Take a hit from outta New York into Phillie Hit some Visine, so the smoke can let out Now do you really think you can take the red out and Feel the effects of the high I know you feel the effects of the high Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother? (Sen) B-Real, light another (B-Real) Spliff, aiyya, ?, vaya Why ya, want ta, turn off the fire You can't get higher, when you turn me off and .. aiyyo, pussy stop coughin You're wastin the lingo, soon all the sack's gone He'll take this bounty rhyme for you to stack on Anyway you have it, you love me like Mary Jane or a 40 to the head, like my brother Kenny Wayne You need to inhale, musical paraphen' Yes musical, Muggs fixed the trend Ahhh, just like a head Brain cells get lit, but I'm the joint you can't grip Through, your finger, I'll start to sting ya So just hear my words linger and Feel the effects of the high I know you feel the effects of the high Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother? Yo Muggs, light another! ... (B-Real) Put me in the bamboo, with just a tape deck ? like brother, rewinds the cassette Was it, because it's funky that ya loves it? (Yeah man) Here's another lyric, go puff it Don't choke off, the hype or croak off When you blow the smoke off, hold until I get off or turn off the fat joint, wanna hit that joint Here is the flat point, I rob it at gun point I'm, the High Times, you get through my rhymes Suck on the pipeline, sit back and recline You gotta suck on, the fattie so come on and Feel the effects of the high I know you feel the effects of the high Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother? I'll just, light another (Cypress Hill) Feel the effects of the high I know you feel the effects of the high Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother? Yo, light another You wanna feel the effects of the high? You wanna feel the effects of the high? Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother? Aiyyo, light another You wanna feel the effects of the high? Can you feel the effects of the high? Can you feel it? I feel the effects of the high -- yo can you feel it? Yo light that motherfucker up man I know you feel it |
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| 7. |
| - | 
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| 8. |
| 1:07 |
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Break it up Cypress Hill, break it up Cypress, break it up Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill! (repeat 13X to fade) |
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| 9. |
| 3:45 |
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(B-Real)
You'll waste time to hurt her, sorta like murder A duck with the public's favorite rhyme order I ain't no waiter or hater of a spectator (kill em B-Real) Seekin to find the toys, with no flavor See I'm talkin about those whose vocals ain't comin off A skill to kill at will, but awfully dumb of course some go nut, the power of the last one slower, flower, blower Those who ain't pros I wet my stupid radio cause he needs a G when you listen to the vocal I'm not a loco but I'm lookin just til punk go OHH Now you can't see I'm real great? Check out the story to the glory of the real estate (Sen Dog) All these motherfuckers that wanna run up on the Hill Step off! You know why? This shit is all about BOO-YAA cause I said step off! (B-Real) This is the crime you find you're not an exponent Doggone it, another gonna mierda on it Now you're wishin, fishin you could do this But on the strength, yo, I think you knew this was just like a dream, when you supreme, the king of a minor ? All for 47, swung ? eleven Got hit with a pitch like a bitch and went to heaven Weak ducks, duckin and buckin Sayin FUKKIT, ain't worth damn pay the ducats From my public, my favorite subject, I loves it So go 'head, talk your punk shit Suckers, you're nuttin, ? like a jock ? Crack smoker, can we adjust we choker Ohh, now you can't see I'm real great? Check out the story to the glory of the real estate (Sen Dog) Heh heh heh, another soft pussy motherfucker Another fly verse Straight from the deficit Another scripture of B-Real Yeah.. get funky, Real This is the Lower Eastside of things YouknowhatI'msayin? Cypress Hill (B-Real) You ain't flamboyant, a toy boy on it Ain't paid a plot, for un-em-b-boyment I won't cause yo I got a lot of what I gotcha Plus I taught ya, the beat on the top of everything you know, still you can't do no damage or duel though aiyyo, cause our crew now the Real is the ?, sport and you can see this G-ness dialogue, of the real skiers I ain't nuttin like a joke, get stoned, get smoked and choke off, the hypes I cook off The dialectic, funk-elistic Chew slower or become another statistic Ohh, now you can't see I'm real great? Check out the story to the glory of the real estate (Sen Dog) Yo I told you to keep down brother The motherfuckers just don't learn nothin G Wake up Hill They gotta keep goin back to the old school So they keep goin out Cause they're just not Real Ha yeah that's right fool (B-Real) Yes the master pass, kick your ass and feel combustion, for the dope blast Cause you're steppin on my property, get off it G Get caught up, then you get shot up See, violators will be prosecuted by the reputed, undisputed, Cypress zooted Not so, no there's no sellout You ain't got enough ducats to shell out Well I'm in front, and yo I feel great Check out the story to the glory of the real estate (Sen Dog) Yeah, roaches come in but they don't come out G Don't come on the Hill That's right Get off the Real Estate Get off the Real Estate Get off the Real Estate Get off the Real Estate |
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| 10. |
| 2:46 |
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(Chorus)
Stoned is the way of the Walk, Stoned is the way of the Walk, Verse 1 ( B-real) Well, it's the Alley Cat puffin' on a hootie rat, Some think I'm a criminal, But, yo I ain't all of that, Hit'cha with the baseball bat, An' ya wanna ill though, Wanna mess around , You get fucked on the hill bro, Kick it like a steel toe, real slow, Hits from the bong , Make me feel like Cheech, And I'm kickin' it wit' Chong, Just like Cheech & Chong frontin' with "Ice Cream", Cypress Hill is here to give you a nice dream, Speak it like a rolla', and you know it's rolled tightly, I'm like the funky beat, so, why ya tryin' ta fight me, Pigs often site me, that's not polite G, And any hour of the day ya know I might be, Harassed by a pig real fast, They wanna Rodney King me, Always tryin'a crown my ass, Ain't got no class(Sen Dog: No Class) I hit they' ass like the buddah thats stinkey, They wanna' scruff but, they' just so rinky-dinky, I'm the freaka, the one who freaks the funk, Sen gotts the Philly, an' he's gonna light the blunt, Sippin' curfew makes me go koo-koo, somthin' like loco then turn in to this loocoo, Binggin the beta,yea, now the funk is risen, Got the beta bass and the nasal highzen, As I kick atrip, it comin' straight from my siness, Crazy nasal vocals, cannot make the hotties loco, I rimemba sista Maggie, breast were kinda saggy, Used to sell me buddah outta fucked up little, Honeyd up a twenty even when I had no money, She said "Pay me back with some latin dick Sonnie" Well I neva' went out, and I don' thnk I'm gonna, Just for some buddah, she wanted me ta bone her, Deminin', Ya think ya meanin', I got somethin' for the hoes ta be skeamin' on, I'm the Buddah-Real take a trip ta hoota'ville, I'll throw ya out the door, of my big blue Siville, Then light another joint, This ain't no exploition (poin't), Cause we are the ones stonein' in the ways of the mastas, Stoned is the walk, Stoned is the walk, Stoned is the walk, Stoned is the walk, (Sen- Dog) Hit they, hit they ass, (B-Real) make the buddah get stinkey Wooooo, Woooo (Alas, Cap'in there's a ship in sight, Huhu, Blast 'em!) Stonend is the walk, |
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| 11. |
| 2:59 |
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(B-Real)
I increase my throttle, uplift my shuttle Tribe in a huddle, pilot on auto - bro I'm not a role model, more like a psycho A Bates type of +Psycho+, cut you like Michael +Halloween+ character, or computer wizard Hit you with the blizzard, cut your circuit with my scissors Shorts'll get crossed while you're in the crossfire You get blasted, you dumb-ass bastard See you need the day-ta *, better I say dah-ta * |
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| 12. |
| 1:15 |
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This is something for the blunted?
Somebody say Chiva, everybody? CHIVA!!! Chiva Chiva y'all (Repeat 'til end) |
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| 13. |
| 3:59 |
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Freak to the funk that no one else is bringin’
Sen Dog with the funky biluingi Yeah that’s the nombre Heard that holmie Peace to Mellow and Frost and neca cote Sen Dog is not a kid a veterano I’m down, another briday’s follow One of the many of the Latins that straight I know And I got plenty for the Jenny’s Alexandro But wait, they’re clownin’ on me ‘cause of my language I have to tell ‘em straight up, it’s called Spanglish My hoes on the pinga the gringo Tryin’ to get paid, for the funky bilingo Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo Yeah funky bilingo Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo It’s the Latin lingo Cuarto hentro when I come in Suckers runnin’ La mida Another bilingo vam beaner Then a cueno hemplo Check the tempo Whaaa, it’s tachingonla instrumental Yeah woofte, como somos Yo no hotho, I got some sodos And you can hear it in la skunkas Tribal ceremony as the Hill gets stronger Don’t be such a liver what ya got for that cavesa Aye holmes pass the cerveza Before I have to go and push up on your reza Mmmm, she’s fine something freska Ya holmes, have a hit of this yeska Teach yo y sin yo The lingo lo puento Now you know, that I am in the centro Where ya live, see the cuertes Now I thinks you ain’t shit without your quinte Something like a skang thang Vactos gettin’ bang banged ‘Cause I hung out with ‘em now you’re callin’ me an insane Suck it mi cara santa mi Camino Make way for the funky bilingual Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo Funky bilinguals holmes Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo It’s the Latin lingo baby Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo Funky bilingo What’s up holmie, don’t you know me Simon, ain’t you the brother of the mas pincos Straight up and down with the rasa The Kid Frost got my back, boo-ya in la casa ‘Cause everyday things get a little crazier As I step to the microphone area As I comb my city burro Los Angeles You know holmes, that’s where the callas is Vactos waitin’ on me along with the heinas Catchin’ all the swiffer when I set your one timer So when you see me at the party or the paile Before I got here I was gaffled in the carre True like govacho who said I was borracho Had an attitude tried to play me macho Just relax, el mado mijo Sen Dog with the funky bilingo Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo Funky bilingual Funky Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo Funky bilingo Funky Latin lingo baby Funky bilingo Funky bilingo Funky baby |
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| 14. |
| - |
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| 15. |
| 1:55 |
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| 16. |
| 2:59 |
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(Cypress) Born to get busy, born to get busy baby -- 2X
(Sen Dog) I'm the the stiff and I do get nice-r Up the pussy when we in the same party, what We can do this bro, we can't be maxin The figures is useless, unless we're taxin This is a perfection and my tribe's the cash dump Known as a musician, imitator act up Nobody's kid brother, that means I'm up for this task And I set out from the beginning, to kick on the scratch Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all Comes very handy when it comes to pushin shovin and stuff Then ask who is he though, I'm not the sissy I'm stiff to neutral brother, and I'm born to get busy (B-Real) Let us start to freak you and we'll make you feel alright When you come to Cypress HIll make sure that you're down with the tribe Cause we're born to get busy, born to get busy baby Born to get busy, born to get busy baby -- 3X B-b-b-b-busy! (Yeaaaahhhaaaahaha, yeah!) (Sen Dog) As I stroll the ever ways of the buddha masters As I smoke my joint I feel one with the earth But a brother like me keeps on walkin to get to the next sign then blaze the next joint... *short pause, then outro comes on over "Stoned" instrumental* The, physical effects of marijuana The first sensations may be felt instantly after having smoked grass or an hour after having eaten Usually, they creep slowly into this stoned condition Inch by inch, sliding upward, but to beatnik The effects may come upon you, suddenly, and startle you full force (The, physical effects of marijuana) (There are four basic types of marijuana) Pyschologically, sometimes the early psychological stages coincide with the early physical stages experienced while stoned The famous "mind expansion" comes after the famous physical sensation Grass, heightens and distorts For example, profound revelations You may THINK you have profound revelations, only to discover... *music and fade obscure final words* |
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| Disc 2 | ||||||
| 1. |
| - |
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I Wanna Get High
Album:Black Sunday Submitted by: OHHLA.COM I want to get high - so high! I want to get high - so high! I want to get high - so high! Well that's the funk elastic, the blunt I twist it The slamafied, (buddafied) funk on your discus Oh, what you messed with, you got to bare witness Catch a ho and another ho Merry Christmas Yes I smoke shit, straight off the roach clip I roach it roll the blunt at once to approach it Forward motion make you sway like the ocean The herb is more than just a powerful potion What's the commotion, yo I'm not joking around People learning about, what they're smoking My oven is on high, when I roast the quail Tell Bill Clinton to go and inhale Exhale, now you felt the funk of the power now feel the effects... I want to get high - so high! I want to get high - so high! I want to get high - so high! I want to get high - so high! yo hits from the bong yo hits from the bong yo hits from the bong yo hits from the from the bong from the bong yo hits from the bong yo hits from the from the bong from the bong yo hits from the from the bong from the bong *love teto* |
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| 2. |
| - |
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Let's kick it ese
Comin' out da slums It's da hoodlums I'm pullin' my gatt out on all you bums So bring it on when you wanna come fight this Outlaw, kick ya like Billy Ray Cypress Hill Kill I'll bust that grill Grab my gatt, and load up the steel And if you wanna get drastic I'll pull out my plastic Glock automatic Synthetic material, bury your blocks 'n' mortar Headed down to da Mexican border Smokin' that smelly Northern Cali' Gonna put a slug in Captain O'Malley Ho, hum Hear the gatt come Boooooommmmmm! Let me see what you'll do It's a sin to kill a man But I'll be damned if I don't take a stand We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that I'm high strung Click I'm sprung 'Cause I don't live on the hum-drum Where I'm from the gatts'll be smokin' I'll be damned if ya think I'm jokin' Know that I come with the static Erratic Four-five automatic Screamin' at ya The red lights beamin' at ya No need to have to run after the punk-ass hood In the oven I'm cooked Dig the grave for the one who got played Now he's under Don't make Stevie Wonder Why 'Cause he'll testify We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that I got you thinkin' "What the fuck is this?" Lettin' you know I take care of business Can I get a witness? To verify when I'm to bring this Style that makes you ecstatic Tragic When I get a pull of the magic buddha When I roll with my crew I bet ya One-time can't find my hoota! And I'll be hitting with the belt unbuckled Pig rollin' up but he ain't that subtle Pulled to da curb So we exchanged a few words But he got me stirred up Enough to grab the handcuffs I'll huff and puff and blow ya head off! We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out We ain't goin' out like that We ain't goin' out like that "Yeah takin' your disses and dissin' ya right back. This is the Cypress Hill crew, like main shit. Yo an' I'm talk this damn rappa, eat a bowl a dick up. There ya go my man over here, you can eat a bowl o' dick up too. Anybody else need from runnin' away: yo, eat a bowl of dick up G!" |
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| 3. |
| - |
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To da one on da flam
boy it's tough I just toss that ham on the fryin pan like spam it's done when I come in slam damn, I feel like the son of sam don't make me wrek shit wit a automatic got me goin' likke general electric damn the lights are blinkin' I'm thinkin' it's all over when go out drinkin' OH makin' my mind slow, that's why I don't fuck with the big four-oh bro, I got ta' maintain cuz a nigga like me is goin; insane chorus: insane in da membrane insane in da brain! (repeat 4x) Do my shit undercover now it's time for for the blubba blaba to watch dat belly get fatter fat boy on a diet don't try it I'll check your ass like a looter in a riot much too fast like a sumo slammin' dat ass leavin' your face in the grass you know I don't take a chulo lightly punck just jealous cuz he can't outwrite me so kick that style, wicked wild happy face nigga never seen me smile rip dat mainframe I'll explain a nigga like me is goin' insane chorus Like louie armstrong played the trumpet I'll hit dat bong and break ya off something soon I got ta get my props cops come and try to snatch my crops these pigs wanna blow my house down and undrground to the next town they get mad when they come to raid my pad and I'm out in the night loose scared yes I'm the pirate pilot of this ship if I get wit' the ultraviolet dream hide from the red light beam now do you believe in the unseen look, but don't make you eyes strain a nigga like me is goin' insane chorus |
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| 4. |
| - |
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Livin on phat pockets on flat wit tha gat
rollin around nine deuce cadillac still got my homies to watch my back and they'll smoke ya ass if ya wanna come chat thats why some pigs an tha kids come sweatin they follow a hollow point shell's hard ta swallow why wallow when ya come ta roll on i put tha clip an dust bring ya ass on,kickin dust on ya head as tha gatt busts my grip surronded im about ta get rushed i brushed wit death how many shells stuffed in my closet??? when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down) when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down) when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down) when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready) i told tha boyz get tha sawed off glock and tha rest of tha gats as i strapped on tha bullet-proof vest BOOM i think i got one to tha chest hot damn I didn't want to kill a man shit i still stand tall with tha hill clan ya'll better stand back niggaz bout ta fall I'm comin out blastin like yosemite sam get tha cheese an tha bread for tha ham when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down) when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down) when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (when tha shit goes down) when tha shit goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready) |
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| 5. |
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Lick A Shot
"Colour is not important." Lick a shot! "Oh!" Comin' at ya "Fire!" Zippedy do da, zippedy hey Cried oh my, wanna get that punk with my AK And get on the way On a mission, puffin' on a fat ass jay Prude! You can't hang Flash back on the skills when I used to bang On the corner I'll warn ya Gonna roll on ya Fool Hit ya with a golden rule Don't turn your back on the street When I hit that corner, feel the concrete If ya push that by like nothin' Watch me turn to a psycho all of a sudden Blastin' at these fools with a passion Look at the Glock when it's time for some action Let the gatt hummm Lick a shot! So I let the gatt hummm Let the gatt hummm Lick a shot! So I let the gatt hummm Sunday morning Wake up it's stormin' Raindrops fallin' on my head it's pourin' Cats an' dogs Pigs in a wagon Lookin' for the Afro - one that's saggin' Scooby-Doo An' fucked down too Ploy me Don't let your punk ass try me Gonna take more Then you better call your backup team And wait for the crew I'm the one flippin' Keepin' the clip On my hip an' Just watch your back if you're slippin' Oooo Where did that .22 Come from When the bullet past through my lung I've lost my breath I'm winded I've been hit, by a slug that wasn't intended I hear thunder I wonder If a nigga like me's goin' under Take a number! Let the gatt hummm Lick a shot! So I let the gatt hummm Let the gatt hummm Lick a shot! So I let the gatt hummm Had a bad dream Woke up in a casket Now I can't even get back at the bastard Bull-shit! This pine box Ain't strong enough to contain the Afro Marx Critical bell rings Snapped out the dream What the fuck's up with the funny red beam Pointin' at me I got no strap G What now: gotta duck, they're gonna gatt me Bam, I feel numb Where did the shotgun blast come from Let the gatt hummm Lick a shot! So I let the gatt hummm Let the gatt hummm Lick a shot! So I let the gatt hummm *love teto* |
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| 6. |
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On a chicken-hunt, huntin' for a chicken
Get paranoid when you hear my Glock clickin' Speakin' to the punk that's tweakin' With the bitch-ass styles I hit you like Deacon Jones house, cough without the bones I rolled ya up and smoked you like cones Split the seed and grow you like clones Don't start-me-up, cause I'm not the Rolling Stones But I get stoned with a little help from my friends With the (gubla), then I passed it round back to me again I can make you famous like Amos Same as the last punk, when I stuck the gatt up his anus Hear me growl: Grrra! Howl! I got the night vision just like the wise old owl I'm comin' ta fetch ya Yeah home direct ya Bury them bones Under my home and Cock the hammer! Cock the hammer, it's time for action! Cock the hammer! Cock the hammer, it's time for action! Take my weapon, step into a whole new realm And step back, as I take up the helm On the pirate ship I'm steerin' Droppin' the geran Just realize what you're hearin' The cannon sounded That's my companion: surrounded As my crew comes bounding As the captain Afro-america Whole lotta gattin' With the loc'ed out latin Busted! You're a red beard with a musket Better talk quick 'cause ya might get dusted Your gatt looks rusted, disgusted Oh look away, look away boy as I rush it Yes I know that you can't withstand it Watch that ass cause punk I'll brand it With a steel-toe, how you feel now When my boot stuck in that ass like a dildo Cry on a pillow, weeper that's willow The Hill got the skill for the static like brillo Hmmm, what you talkin' `bout punk Gimme room as I light up the boom Cock the hammer, wave the white banner Ever heard a Glock go `click' like a camera? Cock the hammer! Cock the hammer, it's time for action! Cock the hammer! Cock the hammer, it's time for action! Cock the hammer! Cock the hammer, it's time for action! Cock the hammer! Cock the hammer, it's time for action! |
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| 7. |
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One little two little three little putos
Tried to jack me they got the boot-o Taking no shit when push comes to shove 'Cause the niggas showed me no love Step back punk 'cause I'm a Latino What I bring you is the hardcore lingo Funky, but ya don't understand Now I gotta stand with the Glock in my hand No scope And there's no hope 'Cause I'm dishin' Out my .45 slug and it ain't missin' Here it comes hissin' Here it comes hummin' at ya Now the slug is comin' at ya One little two little three hoodlums Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes What do you know, click clack goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run Cuando entro, loonie es el fuerte Speakin' to the gente 'Cause I'm insane in the mente Movin' em back, click-click goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run It's no fun When I got to break you off some Of the psycobeta beatdown, boy you get done Serio Here we go Off for the muchacho Come if you really want some of the chingazo Me caso you don't hear this little lazo Cypress Hill, breaking you off a pedazo Humming at ya Don't make me come gatt ya Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya One little two little three hoodlums Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes What do you know, click clack goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run When I come in, kickin' with a vengeance Swift of the engines Coming like the three little indians Stompin' around on the ground on the plains 'Cause a nigga like me is goin' insane In the brain So I gotta maintain My direction What I mighta gained Without my protection Not a damn thing So when I come just bring That new style, break ya off like a chicken wing Buckooock!! So you can just suck my cock Like a fat blunt, stoned is the way of the walk When I'm peepin' Checkin' out the punk-ass creepin' I let the dogs loose then I let the dogs sick 'em Graaah! Nigga don't make me catch ya Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya One little two little three hoodlums Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes What do you know, click clack goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run |
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| 8. |
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One little two little three little putos
Tried to jack me they got the boot-o Taking no shit when push comes to shove 'Cause the niggas showed me no love Step back punk 'cause I'm a Latino What I bring you is the hardcore lingo Funky, but ya don't understand Now I gotta stand with the Glock in my hand No scope And there's no hope 'Cause I'm dishin' Out my .45 slug and it ain't missin' Here it comes hissin' Here it comes hummin' at ya Now the slug is comin' at ya One little two little three hoodlums Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes What do you know, click clack goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run Cuando entro, loonie es el fuerte Speakin' to the gente 'Cause I'm insane in the mente Movin' em back, click-click goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run It's no fun When I got to break you off some Of the psycobeta beatdown, boy you get done Serio Here we go Off for the muchacho Come if you really want some of the chingazo Me caso you don't hear this little lazo Cypress Hill, breaking you off a pedazo Humming at ya Don't make me come gatt ya Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya One little two little three hoodlums Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes What do you know, click clack goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run When I come in, kickin' with a vengeance Swift of the engines Coming like the three little indians Stompin' around on the ground on the plains 'Cause a nigga like me is goin' insane In the brain So I gotta maintain My direction What I mighta gained Without my protection Not a damn thing So when I come just bring That new style, break ya off like a chicken wing Buckooock!! So you can just suck my cock Like a fat blunt, stoned is the way of the walk When I'm peepin' Checkin' out the punk-ass creepin' I let the dogs loose then I let the dogs sick 'em Graaah! Nigga don't make me catch ya Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya One little two little three hoodlums Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes What do you know, click clack goes the gun Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run |
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| 9. |
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| 10. |
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Hits from the bong...
Take it, pack it, fire it up , come along and take your hit from the bong Put the pipe down just for a second Don′t get me wrong its not a new method Inhale..exhale..just got a ounce in the mail I like the blunt or a big fat cone But my double barrel bong is gettin′ me stoned I′m skillet, just want to rent side don′t spill it It smells like shit on the carpet, spill it Don′t stop smoke when I get it clean Is some of it..haha I can′t understand the rest, and im bored now. Have fun! |
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| 11. |
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What Go Around Come Around, Kid
(time for some action) yeah yeah (time for some action) Come on come on (time for some action) yeah yeah (time for some action) Come on come on Drunk ass fool just a punk ass gonna cause trouble yeah let me burst that bubble in a hurry I ani't happy so worry what's a judge and a punk ass jury homeboy Should I'm done to go home but ya got caught up inside the cyclone If I go home I'll get slopped and stoned When I disconnnect that fuckin neck bone WATA! Then ya get the kick to jaw kid And I rip out ya eyelids So you can see The head nigger at it killa Commin when I break on the static What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around Shit I get real shit yo shit can ya feel it Carbon copy come steal it The gatt I conceal it Under my jacket Oh where oh where Do ya think I pack it Under my belt when the cards get dealt to all the players And though the punk ass fakers just come And ya get the high pitched humm Make ya understand where I'm from The eastside brown kid looks around Put's down tump it must fall down It's on when ya wanna take my pound punk what go around come around What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (time, time for some action) check me and I'll check you back (time, time for some action) check me and I'll check you back When they come with the staic cling it's not thing Make ya sing the blues like B.B. King I got the roughneck scales To give awhile Like a voodoo child Nuthin but style Take it But you can see the black glock clickin Point my gatt at the punk ass victims Step up Or you can step back though the doors You can bring it on if ya wanna come get yours But ya betta look ova ya shoulda Cuz a loss of blood gets the body much colder What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (go around) What go around come around, kid (go around) What go around come around (time, time for some action) check me and I'll check you back (time, time for some action) check me and I'll check you back (time, time for some action) check me and I'll check you back check me and I'll check you back *love teto* |
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| 12. |
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(Intro from the movie Who's the man?)
You heard it on the radio you see it on the TV show A to the K? ... A to the motherfuckin' Z (B-Real) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (to the what?) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K One, life had begun for the ruffneck kid who was gonna put niggaz in check EIGHTEEN, G, for the green OBSCENE, and it's for the time being I'm pickin nine, hell I'm out to get mine and pick two homies, three com-bine Next thing you know, jump in the six-fo' Get out, cock the hammer, then kick down the do' A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (motherfuckin K?!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN K (Sen Dog) Couple niggaz from the Eastside, headed EastBOUND Lookin for a pound, to haul around town Here comes a clown, I gotta hold my ground Hear the slug comin, when it come you fall down BUCKDOWN, dead sound, that's what you found That's what you get when you fuck the BROWN DOG, Sen is comin, to the mound La Vida from Cypress, rips your compound Shit gets deep, eight niggaz on the ground What do you know? What - go ah-round come around! Six for the pig, and his punk hound Hail to the king pig, or you get CROWNED Or better yet, I'll roll you up like a fat J (B-Real) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (motherfuckin K?!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN K It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on.. (It's gonna be on.. GOIN ON!) It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on.. (It's gonna be on.. GOIN ON!) It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on.. (It's gonna be on.. GOIN ON!) (B-Real) Gimme that WEED fool and all your loot too I got a nigga in the back and the blunt for your crew Loaded and cocked for any hardrock If you're takin my weed, I'm takin over your spot Keep your face down as I take your pound Don't let me see nobody get up, just hug the ground (STAY STILL) And don't make a sound as I get out the door, headed Eastbound But, why did the fool try to act brave? (act brave) Clip from the nine equals six to the grave A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (motherfuckin K?!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A to the motherfuckin K (A to the K!) A to the motherfuckin K homeboy A TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN K |
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| 13. |
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cypress hill
cypress hill cypress hill Crusing through the neighborhood Some say I'm no good Claimin I'm a criminal But lets make it understood Just one man man with a whole lot of homeboys (whole lot) Ya get the click of the glock When I pull of the chrome toy Check me and I'll check you back (check you back) Then jump back to my big Buddah like I'm not a bad guy But don't take advantage I'm throwin out the garbage just show me where the can is All I was doin was searchin for the boon Then some punk tried to hit me with a broom Lucky I ducked quick Or else I'd be assed up Last thing I wanted was have to pull the gatt out here comes a nigga And he's got a .38 Well my roundhouse said hey yo I'm shootin up straight Cuz I put away the shotgun borrow me a glock Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot tried to jack me but home got shot la-la-la-lalala-la! Understand where I'm commin from Self defense turns to the offense (right, were down, were down) Understand where I'm commin from Self defense turns to the offense (right, were down, were down) Couple niggas from the east side fuckin up ya program No one witnissed But they heard the gun blast It left the problem unsolved now I'm gonna sum up people gettin hurt in the process of the come up Gotta with the fools That'll wait for you to run up Rollin in the hood That's already shot up Pocket full of gatts And see if we can spot the Homey that's slick In the process of the dip When we find this out Gonna unload the clip! And take a little trip down to Rio My neighboorhood's hot and so I gots to go chill Cuz I put away the shotgun borrow me a glock Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot tried to jack me but home got shot la-la-la-lalala-la! Understand where I'm commin from Self defense turns to the offense (right, were down, were down) Understand where I'm commin from Self defense turns to the offense (right, were down, were down) Kickin' that funky Cypress Hill shit Think I'll load a clip Lets see if you can deal with Cuz the bulletproof vest ain't shit When the infrared's pointin at your head kid And that's just to bad yo Now I'm headed up a river in a boat with no paddle Shoulda put the glock down (glock down) Now they got me in lock down livin' like a nigga whose done lost his mind Cuz self defense turns to the offense But nobody even really knows that (knows that) All they see is me and the gatt Up in the court room Lookin at the jury Starin down the punk ass district attourney la-la-la-la-lala-la! Verdict's in You're not guilty as charged When I put away my shotgun borrow me a glock Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot tried to jack me but home got shot la-la-la-lalala-la! Understand where I'm commin from Self defense turns to the offense (right, were down, were down) Understand where I'm commin from Self defense turns to the offense (right, were down, were down) cypress hill... |
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| 14. |
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Break 'Em Off Some
Yeah, eat a bowl of dick'up fools! Do ya wanna get crazy? Commin atcha in 93'! Through the car swings The fireing pins go click when I duck behind the trash bin Ran out of ammo no doubt my gatt is dry like a fuckin drought got to make my way home hit the gate and get my chrome god damn this song they got me cornered lemme just warn ya I'll pull this trigga make your family mourn'ya Boo-hoo! where ya gonna run to when I pull out the scooby do run let me break ya off some hit the floor cuz it aint no fun but here they come they must wanna get done No frontin' punk I'll break ya off somethin! 1 2 3 that coppa goes down! (break'em off some) what the fuck I'm rollin in a mack truck that's stolin guess what I'm holdin ammmo to bust my load still I'm easin on down The yellow brick road Whatta ya know? A pig in a plain brown wrapper He wanna bring me down I'll hit that corna Lemme just warn ya I'll bring ya ass down make ya family mourn ya 21 gun saloot trying to take my loot don't make me shoot I'll hit my blunt and pass you a load And punk let me break ya of something (break em' off some) I got to roll with the self control In the green tank when the shit unfolds hold up I got it sewn up me and my niggas Are about to blow up Got the pigs on my tail What they get is the hollow point shell Caught in the sail Servin my sentence Got my apprentice In the hood But the nigga is senseless Out on parol Now the nigga has turned to my fold Now the punk gotta go That punk got shady Woudn't repay me Let the punk know that ya still can't fade me Maybe the fucker would stop But nuthin would stop me from havin to break'em off something On to the next spot kid (break'em off some) We ain't havin it yall Ya know what I'm talkin bout I'm about to break your ass of some'n! Commin from a whamm-o (break'em off some...) *love teto* |
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| Disc 3 | ||||||
| 1. |
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Once again the powers of the herb open up the mind,
Seek deep inside, tell me what you find, Come on... (B-Real): Who be the ones steppin' in the room, Everybody welcome to the temple of boom, Back, let me see ya fat indo sack, And get weeded, somebody, everybody need it, Mari-Juana, Mari-Juana, do ya wanna, Give me love when I put the flame on ya, Homie I'm the one with the shotgun,in the closet, Next to the fat bags full of chronic, Puto, don't ya be steppin', with ya hands open, Askin' me "can I get a hit of what t'cha smokein'", I aint got no kind of love for a brother, Who comes to the party, with no bud, I be smokinest, indo-blazin', funk buddah, Everybody, wanted it, now they talk about the hooter, Up until the summer of '91, Wasn't no mutha fuckas talkin' 'bout smokein' blunts, From the west coast to the east coast, Everybody be braggin', But , I'm the one who be puffin' most, First it started with the nickel, then the dime, Then the Twenty, spendin' up all my money, Now, I roll with the nelco(?), With the pound in the pad smokein' up the indo, Just take a deep breath (Ahh), Hit it then pass it to the left, You can keep the mutha fuckin' stress, Smoke it up, just puff it up, (O yea), Light it up, then put your spliff up in the air, Do you wanna spark another owl? Do you wanna spark another owl? Everybody spark another owl. Everybody spark another owl. I wanna spark another owl. I wanna spark another owl. Do you wanna spark another owl? Do you wanna spark another owl? (Sen Dog)Yea, stroll the ways of the buddah mastas, brings me to the temple of boom, I see people everywhere startin' to understand the point, when I'm talking about the joint, talkin' 'bout that marijuana, talkin' 'bout the sense, talkin' 'bout the kind mota boca loa-loa maui,maui, lugers of work- ready, mexican greenba, cheeba, cheeba y'all, yesca, humble pound weed, the crypt, the choclate tide, the afgani, the michoacan, the indo, the skunka, the bad breath sense (cough). Hello everyone, I'm Kurt Loaded, we're here in hemp TV, with Cypress Hill in Amsterdam we're listening to there new album, I'm stoned, I'm outta here, Goodbye folks. |
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| 2. |
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Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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| 3. |
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1 for trouble, 8 for the road
7 to get ready when I'm lettin' off all my load Funk, Buddha monk, in the trunk I got'cha, thumpin' so hard Up and down the boulevard I'm a natural born cap peela', strapped illa I'm the west coast settin' it on, no one's reala' Getcha fix of the uncut funk A small dose of the skunk weed, like it's suppose to be Move it up, just move it on out What'cha talkin'bout son I took the first shot, and it's all over now One nation under a groove Smoke a pound for the strict of it Everytime I make a move Smooth and togetha Raw like leatha Ain't goin' out like a punk, neva Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove It's the numba one money maker Money take a, few steps back I'm on a plane to Jamaica Puffin' a fat wada, talk shit For the fool I'm thinkin' about, I got the ruff shit Hard rock bone breaka Stoned Raider, in the Temple of Boom Assurt to assume Never be lettin' shit slide, no way Bitch niggas can hide But, I'll find they ass some day Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Wherever you are, put'cha muthafuckin' spliff in the air Some dogs, like you gotta pair When I kick to the metro Lone clip, be lookin' around Cause this shit ain't over with yet People can't understand my situation Now they cought up in the Soul Assasination Fool, just take cover, it's all over When I break ya off a chunk of this muthafucka Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove |
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| 4. |
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"Aw man wake up... ' fuck is goin' on?"
"Shit" "Oh shit I can't wake up nigga..." "Oh shit, what the fuck's goin' on? Can't keep these voices out o' my head" "You messin' with the wrong nigga this time." "Fucked up... aw shit." Some people tell me that I need help Some people can fuck off and go to hell Goddamn why they criticize me Now shit is on the rise so my family despise me Fuck 'em, and feed 'em 'cause I don't need 'em I won't join 'em if I can beat 'em They don't understand my logic To my gatt to my money and I'm hooked on chronic I never wanted to hurt a nigga Unless ya come flexin' that trigga I'll dig ya That grave on the east side of town Now you're six feet underground From man, to the dust to the ashes All I remember tell me where the cash is Click clack, barrel at my dome Give all your loot or you ain't going home But I ain't going out wit' a bang Wa dada dang, wa dada daa dang Chorus: I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind I'm havin' illusions Muthafuckas be drivin' me up the walls Hopin' that I fall but they can lick my balls Straight jacket Strap it In the padded room where some punk niggas can't hack it Distracted from our reality Now I'm let out on a minor technicality They all fucked up now 'Cause they let a nigga back on the street somehow I'm lookin for someone like me Livin' in my own world to my own degree On the loose in the city Lookin' at the ho' wit' the big titties Lookin' at me and I feel shitty A little tensed up gettin' hot 'Cause she looks like my girl who got smoked at the crack spot I'm tryin' to find ways to cope But I ain't fuckin' 'round wit' the gauge or a rope Chorus: I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions I'm havin' illusions |
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| 5. |
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[Capitan Pingaloca]
"Esto no me gusta. Aqui la gente, la gente no sirve pa' mierda. Aqui Yo soy, yo soy Capitan Pingaloca. Y to' mundo aqui, me sirve a mi o va Pa'l carajo. Oye... revolucion compadre!" [B-Real] In the midst of the madness No question, who's the baddest MCs in the game runnin for the status Take a few seconds to review the crews Sittin' on top is the Hill lookin' over you Killa Hill Niggas Cleaned in my dream Cookin' up a scheme For all them big bank niggas The world is yours, but it can be mine and his Bust you out the frame, I don't give a fuck who it is Number one mission, opposition Get dumb, succumb and then position In a casket, best wishes At the bottom of the lake, sleepin' with the fishes Full out search for the body Of the MCs who be comin' to disrupt the party No wins, no ends, no way That I'm ever gonna let ya come back again! [RZA] Check my dramatics Brains get splattered Dreams shattered Sabas get blasted for words he packaged Beat the sequence Bravado lessons on his defense Pile you niggas talkin' fast like Puerto Ricans What you seekin' Son I catch clean like Dominicans Last Mohican Witness I'm speakin, loud as Indians, tomahawk Shaolin slang, the violent talk Upstate New York Where chumps get extorted for Newports What you thought [B-Real] Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again The' the' the' then I'm never gonna let ya come back again Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again Ease back, ease back Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again [Capitan Pingaloca] "Y ya esta dicho. Todos los que no les guste mi 'rebote' van a morir. Yo le voy a meter una bala a la cabeza a cualquier maricon, que no me Persiga a mi a la 'singadapuerta'. Oye, hijo puta! Quiero quemarte la Cara!" [U-God] Words droppin' chant The check DI slant I'm taking these cannabis plants Yo for granted Exotic narcotic Tunes slam soon From a dune In the desert Mega-Babylon pleasure Comin' out the domepiece, smell my aroma Warrior nomad Put you in a coma Comma Llama Smash-crashin' your armor Drama I'm a Stealth aircraft bomber Here is where I dwell At the gates o' hell It ain't where you're from It's where you're in the mentals And if not, yo' credentials Are essential I see reality View things surrounding me Free like a spread, precise strikes the lyric Not frontin' or braggin' Hundred percent red dragon Pine fragranced lyrics, the rhymes you can't imagine The globe-trotter, call me Meadowlog Lemon Five part criminal, two part felon [B-Real] Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again The' the' the' then I'm never gonna let ya come back again Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger The' then I'm never gonna let ya come back again Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again Ease, Ease back Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again Ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger [Capitan Pingaloca] "Esta dicho! Aqui, la revelacion! No se la ve por television. Todos Los maricones del norte, que los voy a matar yo. Va a ser aqui en nuestro Pais. Y todos los 'singamasones', que estan singando un mundo. Tambien, Van a ver la muerte de ellos mismos, lo en las manos de ellos. Un dia, Va a ser sangre, mucha sangre. La peste de los cuerpos muertos, vas a Oir, que se va a hueler. Hasta los Estados Unidos, estos cabrones, que con La democracia, que nos 'tan singando en el culo. Todos son unos mismos Cabrones..." |
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[Wyclef] Refugee camp, with Cypress Hill
[B-Real] Yo, bringin it on [Wyclef] Cubans meet the Haitians Perfect combination, check it Verse One: Wyclef, B-Real [Wyclef] You say guns [B-Real] I say pistolas [Wyclef] Well if you got beef son [B-Real] Callate la boca [Wyclef] Go meet me on the island where the Cubans meet the Haitians [B-Real] A bullet beats the verbal lyrical assassination [Wyclef] From L.A. to Brooklyn why you doin all that talkin [B-Real] Think you got a soul but you′re a Dead Man Walking [Wyclef] Yo toast the host from coasts′ we boast When we meet again, I will be Casper that Friendly Ghost [B-Real] You′ll hear shots, like the show Cops Things are still the same, I′m still growin crops [Wyclef] Wyclef with B-Real, let me build better yet [B-Real] Killa bee kill [Wyclef] Yo B-Real watch your grip Chorus: B-Real, Wyclef, Lauryn Hill [B-Real] Hi, boom biddy bye bye [Lauryn Hill] Ahhhahhh, ahhhahhh [Wyclef] You open up your eyes you′ll be the next one to die [Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh [B-Real] Boom biddy bye bye [Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh [Wyclef] Ohh as simple as they come as as simple as they die [Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh [B-Real] Boom biddy bye bye [Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh [Wyclef] Yo who told the boyy, to pack a forty-five [Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh [B-Real] Boom biddy bye bye [Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhahhhh [Wyclef] Now he rest in the place that they call paradise Verse Two: B-Real, Wyclef Fools run up, but they′ve never seen the last Spread your last lyrics get broken like glass Can he pass or does he posess the will Or does he need to create to keep him straight on the real Punks are broken some dey fall off the ledge Refugee Camp bringin it straight over the edge You duck as I fluff the feathers from ya skin How ya gonna win that′s like Satan without no sin (without no sin) They′ll never happen while I′m rappin I be watchin The Philistines, creepin up in Manhattan The sun turn up though Wyclef produce a track with Muggs But there′s no survivors, they all died in the flood Chorus Verse Three: Wyclef, B-Real Yo, once a child, twice a villain If this was drugs I′d make a million off this combination They say you′redope Clef you′re dope so they offer me sess and beer Beware, you pull your wallet Mr. Thief stares The opposite direction of the room, he pulled his gun and said I′m doomed join the son of man in the tomb I see the soldiers, comin from out the shadows Ready for battle, ain′t trying to hear the baffled Warriors lined up in full war gear In it to win it if it goes on for years Dedicated to the stable of the Assassins Revolutionaries, just bring on the action Chorus [WYCLEF] Soldier man Rewind selector soldier man Refugee soldier man Brooklyn soldier man L.A massive soldier man New Jersey massive soldier man Uptown massive soldier man Long beach massive soldier man You know the whole world watches soldier man Boom biddy bye bye open up ya eyes you′ll be the next one to die....... |
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| 7. |
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"Bitch-ass motherfucka! Peter Pie ass nigga! Stand on your own two feet
bitch! How the fuck you gon' bite somebody else's dick, nigga? Yours ain't long enough to put in your mouth! What's up with that shit?" (Background): "'Turn that shit up louder!' Muggs, make it rough." So many fools swingin' from my sack Let's talk about the one who had my back Down in the west coast, so lemme kick it To the motherfucker who calls himself "wicked" No rest, no peace, no sleep Doughboy rolling down the Hill 'cause it's all steep Jackson, lemme figure out the name Jack 'cause you be stealing other niggaz' game But I'm the wrong nigga you wanna fuck with On my dick so hard, now ya wanna suck it Go on the head, gobble up the nuts Get your lips ready and tear this motherfucker up Talk about Eazy, correct yourself Cube, better sit back and check yourself "Yeah, nigga! My homie thought he had a homie in you. He let you listen to our motherfuckin' cut, and you turned around and put some old "Friday" shit out. What kind of shit is that?" Hmmm... Let's talk about this First solo album on the east coast dick The east coast niggaz all showed ya love Especially the one known as the King Sun He tried to warn us niggaz about ya But nobody would listen Even began dissin' Two albums later, you callin' my crew All because ya wanna be Cypress Cube Shoulda known that you couldn't hang in the alley Good boy went to school out in the valley Fuck it, lemme make this understood Speakin' on Mama's little 'Boys in the Hood' "No Vaseline" Just a rope and a chair and gasoline (burning your ass up!) Lench Mob is a friend of mine But you talked about them niggaz from behind "You know what a chazzer is, O'Shea? A motherfucking pig that don't fly straight" Where ya gonna run to? Where ya gonna hide? Taadow, look at who's waitin' outside "I got a can of kick-ass wit' your motherfuckin' name on it, Cube. You wanna come collect it, or should I bring it to you? 'Cause all that bullshit you doin', ain't shit fly about that shit... motherfuckin' thing, and I ain't bullshittin'. You beat them back then fuck off, and that's real. Kick rocks buster." Natural Born Bullshitta Lemme hit ya with a dose of reality when I get wit' ya Your homie came knockin', he had to chain my suit You put a pipe on your cover, even though you don't smoke Buddha Let me take you down under on a plane While everybody was going insane Took a look at the Real one: afro gone The next morning, you didn't have yours on How many ways will you bite my shit? Would ya wet me or start throwing up a set? Caution, when you enter the zone Never used to bang 'til you hit the microphone I got Cube melting in a tray Pulling up his card and fucking up his "good day" Unoriginal rap veteran The nigga who say he don't steal from his friends Don't trust that nigga named O'Shea Fuck 'im, and send him on his way! "Cypress muthafuckin' Hill, the hardest mothafuckin' posse there is out here nigga. So how d'you figure you was gonna step to this? Yeah nigga, the big damn-wham-bam Cypress Hill. Tibby-tibby-toe fool, all for your mothafuckin' dope. Nigga, you can't hang with the hill. W' the fuck you was thinkin' about? You know you step to this, you gotta step correct, 'cause Cypress ain't havin' that shit. Yeah nigga, we crack and fuck you next, who gives a fuck, a mad fuck? So bring it on, if you wanna test it." |
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Ezekial 25:17
The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. AND YOU WILL KNOW MY NAME IS THE LORD, WHEN I LAY MY VENGEANCE UPON THEE! (Shots fired) Smokin' MC's like a bowl of Buddha Burnin' in my bong NOW You don't want to step to the rhythm of the funk degrees You'll be a prisoner in the temple of thieves Move it out, just move it on out, no doubt We the number one crew Kickin' more gas niggas out the house Puttin' up an argument, just don't bother 'Cause I'll whoop that ass just like I'm your father Take heed to the master's call yes y'all (Bring your cell-phone cause I fade them all) Bullets fly But they don't give a fuck about who dies When you're in the middle of the fuckin' No question, confrontation Nowhere to run from the assassination Let the rain come down Whoops there goes another body on the ground Watch out for G hound It's the undisputed Cypress family Kickin' up dust can you handle us fragilly Growin' inside your mind like a tumour Spreading in your head like a rumor Venomous! I'm from the underground, I take care of business What the fuck is this? Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Suckas come in all shapes sizes and colors Let me get the rope And hang 'em 'till their fuckin' necks broke Wind passage cut off, now you can't breathe Let me give you what you need A fat dose of the good weed Like a puppet on a string I'm the one controlling your ass With the rough shit here to bring My army grows like the buddha I sold ya Every seed planted is another fuckin' soldier Like the 'coup d'etate' Now ya are in the middle of the ambush Stuck in your car They can't find ya At the bottom of the lake Let me remind ya You better be lookin' behind ya It's too late, ain't no one standin' here Hallucination, bees hummin' in your ear Paranoia, dwelling to your dome piece Increase, the level of the terror that move ceased Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Come on Open up the doors for the high funk buddha With the light point the dick can die Rolling with the six shooter Thirty-eight Still shootin' real straight Lookin' for the buster that I must eliminate No surprise As the inches demise Let the four flow As I look him right in the eyes And rip these niggas in half With the (fabergraph) They can't find a path I like the aftermath Still I reign the sect we remain The big bad Cypress Hill, fuckin' niggas up again When I aim I'm scopin' for your brain Brother stay low, cross-hairs break you up the frame Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Ahh, now that the mind is open so one can clearly see what they clearly don't want you to see. But it's obvious, isn't it my brother? Get the smoke from in the front of your eyes, got to realize, anybody don't like it: move 'em on out. |
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| 9. |
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Livin in the city of the scandalous, shiesty mother fuckas
Can't even trust my own brothers, So who can i choose to trust ? me that's who. Niggas want a piece of the pie, fuck off and die. Jealous, envious, fools wanna rush this. Loco cuban ass nigga with the cash shit. Mother fuckers better get your own And leave mine alone forty five ways to get domed. I send out the invitation, To the party of your elimination. I got peeps that play for keeps........ Now i'm layin your ass down to sleep. But every hustler wanna be ballin But don't got the ball's for the shot callin. I pull strings, the don king; Only in america can i hustle and flex my muscle. (hook). Where can i roam to get my hustle on, Killafornia stackin the chips got the full clips. Loaded and cocked used to run with a glock; Nina milimeter sig lightin up the fuckin block now, Who you gonna trust? who can you trust? I don't know, but if your comin on my corner; i'm gonna bust. You can't handle us, devious, dangerous, Criminal mentality, insanity. I move weight from state to state. All the niggas movin weight can you relate. (hook). Where can i chill to get my hustle on, In the alley way comin up all nite long. Fuck workin at mc' dee's I'm rollin with the o.z's, and the q.p's Puffin on tree's. Who you gonna trust? who can you trust? Not that shady mother fucker in the city of scandalous. {hook}..............end. |
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| 10. |
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Let me introduce myself
I'm the one who rose the cess So don't you forget Bad rolled ya help But you still be trying to push buttons But you ain't nothing, no fronting I bring the level up a little louder In the clubs in the jeeps in the after hours Fools on the street want to feel the funk Lookin for the skunk that's what you want Ya better, sit back and let the track flow Like smoke in your lungs from puffing on the endo Rythems upside ya brain Can ya hang can ya maintain Can ya feel the funk flowing in ya veins Get ya fix and a bag of tricks And the mixer got the stix and stones a few bricks I'm gonna hit em high, he's gonna hit em low Open up your mind so that you can feel the flow On and on till there all gone fools be runing But they won't last long (I'm the freaker) x 8 People always want to get what you got No matter what Can't together themselves in the big hunt In the quest for the crown and the jewels And the cheese muther f*cker please And the mees want to plot against me With envy in there hearts But I rip there sorry arse apart In a minute I can take it to the limit Tempreture rising now so highsing Coming back in with the lows For the fools F*cking up beako's and any body for fools (anybody fools) The number one skunk freaker A cypress hill beaker (the cypress hill sleaker esse) Blowing a hole in your speaker You don't want to test the phero The real one or the wedo Slanging rythems to the ghetto Ya best keep your arse in check (come on) Little muther f*uckers that show respect And what's next the big brown taking you down (and what's next) How you feel when your sorry arse can't hang with the hill (with the hill) (little punk) (I'm the freaker) x4 Can you feel the effects of the chocolate ties Nobody even knows how I kick the flow Slow down coz your coming up to fast You might get smacked down Coz you got no class No code now i'm getting down the road My shits the bomb to explode Take cover you get blown to bits Fades out |
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| 11. |
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Hey ese look at these two motherfuckers right here homes
What you thinkin' homes Wait `till he turns around homes [Echoed] Watch-out All right I got your back homes, let's go Come on ese let's go Let's do it You don't wanna turn your back on me When you least expect it I come with the wicked method I'm creepin' on ya Now you find your homeboys bleedin' on ya Just the locotes Drumin' out the potes Got a new hollay Jackin' in the noche Give me your faya In your pocket or they'll carry ya Off and bury ya We got in the east side every guy Four and three and two and one Thievery don't stop `till I get done Sometimes I don't even need my gatt But shit's gettin' deep and I gotta blast back `Two' thievery `One' robbery `One' robbery 'Cause jackin' is my hobby Give out that money, jewlery and your keys To the five-o outside on wheels Later out with the `85 Mustang One-time got me on the radar Pousha And ya don't stop `till I'm done Now the Puercos got me on the run Police Radio: "LA-14 in pursuit of two immigrant suspects armed on 187. Headed northbound on central and Ninety-second. Armed two suspects believed to be in 1985 red Mustang license plate Lincoln Charles David Bullshit Madelin three two. Armed and dangerous suspects known to be..." You don't wanna turn your back on me When you least expect it I got your keys in my possession With my Smith & Wesson Takin' out all my aggression Check it out ese You're lookin' at the jefe Off that clicker with a big bad trece I'll teach you a lesson No question Get your ass out, now you're passin' out When ya looked at the cuete Four and three and two and one The robbery don't stop `till I get done Some niggas do this shit for fun Now the Puercos got me on the run From barrio To barrio Lookin?for any barrio Cesario Hangin' out wit' Mario Lookin' for a place to hide On the west side Spank got my back over there it right And it don't stop `till I'm done Now the one-time got me on the run [Police radio] "LA-14, we have spotted the vehicle, suspects nowhere in sight... Aw shit!" [Two shots ring out] How you like me now puto? Fuck you pig Let' go homes It's the fuckin' bus eh Get on ese Right here homes One-times not down with us Now they lookin' for my ride, but I'm on the bus Don't turn your back on a rapper like me `Cause I'm one broke motherfucker in need Desperate What's goin' on in the mente Takin' from the rich an' not from my gente Look at that gabacho slipping Borracho from the cerveza he's sipping No me vale madre Gabacho prey to your padre This is one the time you wanna give me the jale Four and three and two and one This old muthafucka got him a gun BLAM! I took one to the knee-cap Things happened so fast Now I dropped my strap Now I'm about to meet my maker Though I had it all figured out with a paper No longer will I be running Last thing I heard was the fucking gatt humming |
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| 12. |
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Look at all these m.c's tryin to get dap,
But all they get; a peeled back dome cap. I'm not the one to be havin that shit, All the punk niggas better bow down and submit. Niggas don't know how to keep it real. Only a few niggas know the real deal. Fuck all the bullshit, cypress hill! Come's rainning on your brain, bringin the blood stain. Smeared on the side walk, one more dome. Of the preditor skull hanging in my home. The big game hunter, fuckin up shit . Get your ass back; while the hill's in the cut. Fool get in the circle lets see if your raw? Hardcore ass vato might hit the fuckin floor. Glock's, and sig's, and m-1 clips. For any busters who wanna flip. Fat s.a. ring shining in your eye. Soul of an assassin till i die. Red light visions in your dome piece, Nightmares goin through your head don't cease. Look at you now broke down, and done. No competition can ever get none. |
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| 13. |
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B-Real:
I neva rapped on an RandB record, and I neva will, I got these phoney muthafuckas, talk about lets keep it real, But, they don't know how to take they own advisement, Going out, do it solo on an advertisement, comecializing Fuckin' sell out, nigga, this is hip-hop, not fasion, Get the hell out, I'm taking out these so called gangsta niggas, Takin' pictures, modeling clothes for small figures, And I neva took another fuckin' MC's shit, And made it my first single, fuck a hit, Fuckin' hypocrite, you can get the dip, when I lick a shot off, I'm gonna, and all of it, It's a damn shame when you got all these fools in the record industry, Sellin' out for the fame, I just sit back and watch thes fools with their gimmicks, Go down in flames , in the big game, B-Real: Zippidey-dooda, I smoke weed and I got brain damage, But, I don't give a fuck cause I still manage, To represent to the fullest, No pop singles, and no actin' foolish, To the studio gangsta with the articles, In them magazines with the bitch editors, Keep it real in the game, Niggas got no shame, Now all the executives want all the fame, Based on the videos, just a gang of silly hoes, For the fuck-em industry that's take'n all ya dough, I never stole it, stole it all, Just hard work, and sweat, for them platinum records on the wall, Fools want me to fall, I won't cause my roots are to thick and strong, like the chocolate tastic, I hear niggas say no, but, I know they front, Cause afta they shows they want me to smoke a blunt, I don't respect a hypocrite, muthafuckas I despise, Cause me I tell the truth, even when I tell a lie, All you bruthas in the game run a check, Cause you get checked fucked off, with no respect, Muthafuckas |
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Fuck all y'all
I'm comin' of the wall I got a nigga from The Source Swingin' from my balls Ughh! Ya want me to set it Well my MAC-11 takes unleaded Let it rain And jackin' out fire What you're seein' when I'm takin' shit another level higher Now it's on Ain't gettin' domed Buckin' all these niggas 'till they all gone Now we can roll to the east side of town And I'm lookin' for a fat boy and a lotta (state of clown) You better move your ass to this MAC-11 Pointed at your ass for the 1-8-7 "Yeah motherfucker, gonna break your back with this shit. Hey motherfuckas: move back! Yo, B-Real.." I'm the head-hunter You goin' under Make a trophy Call it the two-headed buster On my mantle Back in the temple Givin' up the family Up and down Central Butt bloody Anybody Lookin' for a wide body One body Somebody Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson I ain't fallin' off like Humpty-Dumpty Nigga you still wanna bump me Still got the hand on pump And now I'm thumpin' on 'em Thumpin on 'em See Somebody, anybody scream When I got the gatt with the big red beam Now what if I moved it up right between your eyes Now your chances are never When you're lookin' at the slug at the of the barrel Where ya gonna run when ya can't move further Seven eighty one redruM with the Murder Tie him up Throw him in the trunk Let the funk Blow his earsdrums out 'Till he's bleedin' Then let's get him weeded It's the phunk Buddha Let me do the Ceremony up with the hoota And the shooter Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson |
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| 15. |
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"This sure is. I got data on crazy shit for round the corner you know
The homeboys and the brothers be slangin' this shit But anyway, (everybody must get stoned (x4)) You over there singin' some shit, talkin' 'bout Everybody must get stoned I don't know but that shit sounds good to me" (Verse 1) Hit the joint, up the bomb, take a puff Till you just can't get enough Of the sunk a punk Pick an endo, wanna take control But the primaso puff on the endo (keep puffin') Let me take it in then I let it out (let it out) One of you motherfuckers pass the barred owl Peace to the niggaz in all the Budha spots Slangin' fat bags o' weed and runnin from the cops (runnin' from them fools) I hit the leno then pass it on To the cypha' of dreadlocks gettin' stoned (All the dreadlocks lya') >From the fat joint twisted at the end 'Cos I get high with a little help from my friends (from my friends) (Chorus) Everybody must get stoned I said everybody must get stoned (Everybody must get stoned)*variations* (x4) (Verse 2) Hit the blunt of the bong, take your dope Now my head's in a cloud of smoke and no joke Called 'the uptight', motherfuckers puttin' me down 'Cos I talk about the green shit in every town (Everywhere I go) You right in front of me, I can't see ya I'm blind and faded and I get the G-rock And everything's gonna be alright When I pass that toochi from the left-hand side Niggaz is havin' a good time tonight Roll it up, hold it up, pass me the fucking light (Gimme that lighter) Indoor on the home-grown Light it up, everybody must get stoned (gotta get stoned) (Chorus-different variations) You know how we talkin' to talk We say, stoned is the way of the walk (x4) Chorus till fade |
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| Disc 4 | ||||||
| 1. |
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I wake up every morning kiss my wife goodbye
hug my kids tell 'em I love 'em I'm out hit the ride. I'm out on patrol in my squad car in LA. where you never know if you'll be making it home today So many different attitudes that I come across I'm harden and scarred and I ain't feeling nobody's loss hustlers, hookers, killers, and thieves out on the street got my mind warped just found another corpse on the beat bound gagged rapes I'm frustrated I hate it found a woman in the dumpster body was mutilated bad dreams all up in my head no lie sometimes I got to take a sniff so I could get by why don't I get help to settle my nerves I got the erg to merge this bullet with my brain release my pain what a fuckin shame I don't wanna live I'll paint the wall with the bloodstains eye of the pig I see it all (hook) Through the eye of the pig..repeat (scratches) I've been on the force over twenty years I can say that I'm worse than some of these mother fuckers I put away I'm in the biggest gang you ever saw above the law looking through the eye of the pig I see it all. drug abusers drug dealin and the gangbang pieces of shit who should be on the fuckin noose hanging. These days you can't tell who's who in the world Is that a shore or is that an innocent young girl. Fuck I need a drink and I'm almost of at the precinct its like an AA meeting all gone wrong. I.A got an eye on my close friend Guy for take supply from evidence from a bust on a buy that doesn't concern me we never rat on eachother we went through the academy just like fratbrothers its midnight I only have an hour left on my shit I think I'll get my dick sucked by this bitch my marriage is all fuck my wife is with the neighbors supeanaed now I gotta sign thse fuckin divorce papers I recall happier times before the fall looking through the eye of the pig I see it all. (hook) Through the eye of the pig..repeat (scratches) Now I'm on my way back to the station to check out so I could go home relax take a drink and think about my abrupt change out of the clean to the corrupt looking through the eye of the pig I'm all fucked no longer can I determine who's the criminal to the innocent man down to the pedafile no one give a fuck about me I'm slippin into darkness I'm coming to grips and feelin heartless What's this a dark green truck tinted windows dually modified probably a drug dealer pulled over to the curb take you key out of the ignition raise your hands out the windows in the get 'em high position don't move or I'll blast your fuckin head off just tell me where the guns and dope are and you'll get off don't give that bullshit I've heard about your raps I'll your talking about is slangin and shooting off your straps okay Mr. B Real get the fuck out of the truck I love it how all you fuckin rappers think you're so tuff get your ass out I don't no probable-cause you got a big sack of coke so take a pause. |
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1st verse -- Senen
Here we go yall its that nigga hecta lunatic Smokin loop loose in your sector got my eye on the money apparatus like a dog to a bone yeah, you know I gotta have it Anywhere near the shit and I'm a grab it Turn around spin see your face and jab it Drop you like one of these ill Bad Habits Hunt you like a HillBilly Huntin Rabbit cutting niggas up like Muggs on the wheel For real penitentiary steel Put heads to Bed from a choke of a Head Lock Fadin bald heads to perms and even dred locks Bway Rude boy wit my Style I could get foul or wild Or breakfool for awhile 2nd verse -- B Real Look, look, look everywhere you get shook, from the pawn takin out the rook all by the book. Lives get took and takin you're pulsating, you Can't breath no need to look up and see me. Your last hope, when you want mellow you call whoever, for the hype shit you call the Hill put it together. Runnin this game, bringin the same raw shit, over the Hill and through the city we come equipt. To the letter bringin your temperature down low, what I reveal, the good shit to heal all souls. Makin you roll late night, you're trippin my games tight. With the new shit I bring it's never the same hype. So push that shit up, get up don't let up. No matter how much blood you spit up. You can never be fuckin with Greenthumb. the outcome specific, you spliff it calapsed lung. We hit hard breakin you guard you can tell when the bells ring we're bustin your shell the pawns fell. (Hook) Check mate fool, Hang 'em high. Got the live shit bangin, when ever you wanna try. Shoot to thrill, via the Hill we take 'em all, check mate fool where ever the pawns fall....(repeat) I'm a freak that funk and slam it in the trunk I'm a kill all junk With a suicide punk Ain't nobody came my way Talkin' bout the Westide of LA So whatever punk ass Click you claim Keep poppin that shit And I'm a bent you frame 'Cause I want that Big time asshole Studio gangsta Woof all of that shit But left out the main factor My nigga Sen's, rollin again remember when, we rocked shows battling foes, the time's been long. Strong with the styles you're in hear the wind. Like blood pourin out of the pen the ink stains slim chance if it get in your brain. The hot flash got you heated, with repeated attacks over the tracks smack niggas up, back niggas up, hack niggas up, jack niggas up, hangin the whack niggas up. Snowfall effect we're rollin the city limits crushin the bitch ass niggas with all the gimics...(HOOK). |
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(B-Real)
Now lately I've been findin myself, pourin my guts out Expressin my thoughts, lettin my nuts out in the walls of sleep, I can't keep it all in the hall clear While others keep it inside for the pride they hold dear Shoulda been, woulda been, coulda been the cops Stop look and listen, you'll get a vision of hip-hop Individuals lookin to the battle the shadows of man See it all, be it all, you need a plan It takes one man to understand this Learn fuckin with a deadly gas, you get burned From the window of my room, I shoot all stars Every little bit you consume, the high cost of living it's all given to you, don't lose it Every man's given a tool, but don't use it (Chorus: B-Real) From the window of my room, I shoot all stars Every little bit you consume, the high cost Break free, you're selling your soul, for a fee But all that shit ain't worth it, you burnin up see the window of my room, I shoot all stars Every little bit you consume, is high cost Break free, you're selling your soul, for a fee But all that shit ain't worth it, you burnin up see (B-Real) From the window of my room, the gloom spreadin across the land of milk and honey, no money to feed the boss Funny the cost of life, cut clean blood streams out the body, nobody wants you dreamin about shorty No longer don't need a 40 to take away any pain So punk me and I'll give you the world exact change or quote me and you're never the same, I claim no one I show none the weakness individuals go forth ya seek this Wherever I roam is home to me You Shogun, look at my enemies try to do me The influential status, you know the baddest Lookie here, show you what that is, bringin the madness Sadness to those appealin to any conflict Lookin out my window pane, I see you fallin What are you a man or a mouse, the house light shinin within, that's when you begin to live again (Chorus) (Sen Dog) From my window I can see Humanity, goin insane G Everybody want respect, but you gotta collect Only hardcore vatos on the set Don't get me wrong but some rhymes get twisted There it goes, the pride, you missed it I ain't upset with the motherfucker dissin Find me in Watts when you wanna come hit me Some shit ain't what it seems, in the land of dreams Some sell their soul to get the cream From the teens I don't sling or slang no crack I'm known for bringin in funky ass raps See those magazine crews and I'm a goner Dull interviews with these damn primadonnas Unlike some of these fools on the turf Look like the real thing, but they soft like Nerfs So unrehearsed that it shows in the product Need to get the fuck out, before you get caught up (Chorus) |
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(MC Eiht)
Geeyeah, Soul Assassins two times, stick em! Geeyeah, Cypress Hill three times, come on! Geeyeah.. Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin Cross the seven seas eased, clockin much conversation Penetration, you know we gets busy, no hesitation Greenery, hand-picked, from my own plantation Feels the heat, under the som-brero to any amigo that's tryin to, stop the dineros Chills with, senoritas, like charro Get drunk off tequila lay low til tomorrow Follow, my flow, get the cash and go Call my homey B-Rizzy in Mexico City Loose lips sink ships, faker faces got guilt Didn't mean to call you late, I need a hideout til.. cool, homey, I'll bring some fuckin skunk The homey smuggle me across lines in a trunk Just like a bird I'm free, in a land with no fuckin extradition treaty, I'm out, geyeah "Shit is real on the motherfuckin Hill God" (2X) "With the crew from off the Hill" (B-Real) B-Really killin the Phillie now can you feel me from the Soul Assassin committee, the shitty niggaz never thrill me You silly bitches never respect, neglect money You funny or broke, think it's a joke, your nose is runny Got my main man, Mr. Rocho kickin the vocals from the Eastside, where it's loco sellin the poco From the two G's, breakin the leaves of cheese, makin the bacon You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin Evading the pigs, raiding my crib, I'm mad lib and I wanna live and I'm givin the message droppin the lesson Flippin shit, and I'm keepin em guessin they all stressin Hit the lullaby, no confession, we in session "Shit is real on the motherfuckin Hill God" (4X) "With the crew from off the Hill" (MC Eiht) We's beez the three amigos, skates with nickel plates under the seat and we goes East Coast/West Coast, anybody killer! Soul Assassins gets the cash and smash *vroom* Who spits the Glocks like uno and dos? Makin your body dissapear like a ghost One time's tryin to gaffle me, harassin me tryin to send me to the penetentiary (B-Real) In the nighttime, niggaz are creepin you fuckin sleepin And the beat, just keeps on seepin into the street While you peakin I'm meetin and greetin the people speakin and leadin the motherfuckers who's seekin to catch, ruckus Meaning you suckers no-luckers overdub us, nut hug us You love us, you can't stop, these mad audio hustlers "Shit is real on the motherfuckin Hill God" (5X) |
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(TV Reporter 1)
"We understand all of the officers in the Central Division have been ordered to wear their helmets and basically to get into riot gear" (TV Reporter 2) "OK, we have uh trouble breaking out here right now Tensions are building Uh, the police have just wrestled a couple of people to the ground" ("...Police in riot gear...") "The police are, uh, forming a long line now..." (B-Real) In the year of ninety-eight, you can't wait Niggaz been waitin on our release date I know how to pick em up, stick em up Everybody go crazy while I'm fuckin shit up Who's on the floor, while the beats break Hey ? feelin to catch a vibe, you buyin an e-ticket to the unknown, hilltop feelin a lot drop You gotta get the fuck out of the spot Hear no, speak no, see no, but we know Good reigns over evil, how it be though I'm doing it my way, like Carlito Taking over the whole scene, a bad dude, so Bring yourself off up the ground, start it up Break it up, shake it up. you better be wakin up Riot....Starter Riot....Starter Come on (Sen Dog) "Yeah...move it to the side Cypress Hill coming through once again Check this out, this is for ninety-eight, nine-nine Forever baby, come again now!" (B-Real) People like talkin, but can't walk a mile Puttin you down, but they can't bite a style I start the riot up, fire it up Watch the roof cave in, while I'm lightin the shit up You want some more, fanatical, rhyme animal Slammin your head, bangin the wall, it's all mechanical Hear no, speak no, see no, but we know Don't even try to breathe though, an amigo don't move unless you feelin the whole move Like a bomb, gonna blow, I'm killin the whole room Still no real souls, heal those through real shows Broken, how your grill goes, you feel those Then I pealed those off of the wall who got bombed Cypress Hill reignin supreme, we stand tall People never answer their call, they fall slow When the riot starts feelin the boom, you better roll Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Come on (Sen Dog) "Yo, get the fuck up out the stage We gonna tear the roof up off this motherfucker Yo, move the fuck out kid We gonna tear this shit up Hit that breakdown, homie!" (B-Real) Look at all the pigs they can't hold me down Riot gear on, they fiendin to get clowned Watch as I throw my weight, they hesitate while I'm circulatin the flow, movin through every state Stay calm, play on, be gone, the teflon No delay on the mission, I breathe calm Who's gonna be the thrilla when I'm gone Makin the scrilla, Manilla, the Don Juan Seek low, need no, info, the weed codes Don't even try to think though, I'm a kilo Dope shit, my position remains firm Fuckin your head up, take a sip, eat the worm Let it burn, up in your stomach, you never learn from it When the stoned of Soul comin to return Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Come on (Sen Dog) "Yo, get the fuck out of the way or get hurt man You got to move motherfucker, you got to move You gotta make shit happen Yo, once again, this is Sen Dog All the way from the Soul Assassins Laboratory Somewhere, who the fuck knows where at, knahmsayin? Big shout out, all the Soul Assassins across the country Whereever you at, yo check this shit out We comin hard baby, we bringin it live We gonna burn that motherfucker down yo Tryin to raise the roof, we wanna fuck it up We wanna do whatever it is the fuck you call it As long you get out the fuckin way, let Cypress come through Woooorrrdd, yeah We gonna call this one...the Riot, Starter! We wanna see that shit, everybody say that shit Riot Starteeerrrrr! |
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| 6. |
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[Featuring Barron Ricks]
"T Minus 10 9 8 7 6.. 5 4 3 2 1.. zero!" (Blast off!) [B Real] Come inside hello everybody welcome Think you better be ready for the battle when the shit goes down Cause we warring All you fuckin yellow comets runnin from the front line If anybody wanna get away hey I'll find your fuckin ass in due time Run and seek shelter but you never will escape Flippin over the gate, cause you can't wait to get your fuckin ass away But you're trapped, and there's no way out of this musrhroom cloud But you never wanna realize that I'm planted in your mind now Cypress Hill compound, you could hear the sound Let another motherfucker run up and I'll put your ass down (down) Then I'll peal from your cap the Cypress Hill star Quick look around, you can't hide You just might die right where you are Chorus: B-Real AUDIO X...We gonna your blow your head up (up) Synthetic flows, they gonna make you get up Give me any record and I'll flip it any style Niggaz can't help it, cause they bumpin the shit loud [Barron Ricks] Aiyyo whasup kid, feel the rush, glad you kept in touch With these niggaz who be puffin on the Dutch Bustin guns, lay back in the cut Can it be, it's just a dream when you're on your scene smokin the green Cause ain't shit never what you think it seem From the streets where life ain't cheap Cypress Hill, Soul Assassins, while you askin, "Who dat rappin?" We get all up inside your grill, with the skill Shoot to kill when it's time for action See you can't hide, from this homicide, that ain't no lie Better kiss that black ass goodbye when you try to play these wiseguys So who's complainin when we intensify the levels on the ryhme You better get ready for the battle when the shit goes down Because we are the wild Chorus [Barron Ricks] "Audio terrorists Mic specialists About to blow this Blast off" [B-Real] Lookin in your eyes, I see your body bag figure Better be ready for the battle when the shit goes down Cause it's on nigga What you wanna do, you better pay close attention Let it be known, I control the zone beyond your comprehension Blunt session, you feel the tension begin to rise Fuck and feed him, if they can't take a joke and get high I'm feelin lye, in my lungs, what the deal bro? So many people wanna hit my joint but they never got none Imagine that bullshit, happens all the time Niggaz better start growin they own They cannot fuck with mine Give me any record and I'll flip it any style Beginners better run back to the lab and practice for a while Chorus [Barron Ricks] "This has been another AUDIO X explosive Blast off!" |
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(feat. Barron Ricks)
Attendant: "That takes a fourteen shot clip You expecting an army?" Serpico: "No....just the division" [Barron Ricks] "Yeah, once again, (that's right) We about to attack this (Harlem Inc, Murder Inc) Yeah (Nicky Bond) Jimmy Cagney type shit, Nicky Santoro All my little short niggaz Joe Pesci and all that shit like this yo" Fillin out the cards to your eulogy Murder that ass, send my regards to your family, fuck it That's what niggaz get for fuckin with this maniac depressive nigga with aggresion, Smith and Wesson, in his possession Harlem got me like that, too many grimy, slimy niggaz on the take For short cake, we won't hesistate I miss inhabitants who politic in residence for presidents Across 110th, to 55th My covenant is protected, I'm doministic Survival principles my ethics, eastern philosophy's my method Good samaritans need paremedics, so what's your premise I hope you fuckin with Glocks and fo' fifths Wrath's Napolean, so teach your origin, slash wrists Shatter chins, and bust clips Check it, "here is somethin you can't understand" Steel Magnolia [B-Real] I got the steel magnum, braggin, leavin my toe tagged As I get raggamuffin, no bluffin, the body bagged Breaks all your bad habits, bad blood fanatics Clean up the magic, chrome startin up static Greed means that you die quick, click the vision Greed lies anmbition, five slugs for the mission Seven cause you go to the heaven or hell and dwell to meet your maker, but you met the shotgun shell Buckshots sting like bees, I smoke trees on the hilltops, clubshops and chilling overseas Take in the breeze, Mr. Freeze squeeze the trigger Killa G's got you week in the knees, to take it ea-sy! [Barron Ricks] Steel Magnolia Magnificent guns bust when 'Uzi Weighs a Ton' And yo' Glock spits, consecutive rounds shot from clips spells murder, sound synonymous to burner Leave niggaz ass up, gaspin for air, front seats of truck So who the fuck want me to press on they luck, bastard they son When gats start to hum and whole crowds begin to run Annihilation, destroyin all expectations Have relatives embrace your Harlem hopital, we all patient 5 foot 6, concealed steel, pop more grip With fixed sights that drifted to right, triggers light So relinquish son, I'm to the finish, and you acknowledge Couldn't pop a clutch or light a skyrocket, nigga stop it! Steel Magnolia [B-Real] Steel Magnolia, bury ya, six niggaz carry ya To your final rest area What you worried though, you ain't above that with a slug And your chest beats, blowin out your back, take it easy To your eulogy, open heart surgery Emergency, 911, come in a hurry From the Hills to the Polo realms, stackin the bills I put you under my lo-lo, hit my switch, then kill A bitch nigga steppin on my toes, fuck foes and hoes Get stuck in the ass like Pete Rose I suppose you wanna get wild and throw blows, you chose to get you nose your broke, in a thick cloud of smoke You're like a fat joint, I'm takin a toke, I'm like coke But you ain't smilin, feelin erratic, a fuckin addict To the dope shit, you better hope the shit stop Smooth, holdin the Glock, rockin the hot shit [Barron Ricks] Steel Magnolia Steel Magnolia Steel Magnolia Steel Magnolia |
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I use to know this girl who slang the green shit
had it all going on but it didn't mean shit she wanted to be a star with big cars and all the fame that came her way I gotta say that she was all that and a bag of Indoe with no seeds such a delightful weed I wish she was still around but no she's gone my guess she got blessed and she got put on Hey yo I miss that girl she was the bomb Had the bomb diggy bomb bom and up on the quraun had all the holy book with looks to kill still I never met another dealer with that appeal with those electric eye's hypnotize any wise man surpize the queen of the lye. B Smooth 2nd half of 1st verse Mo' better bitches bounce in five deep cliques Dipped in victoria secret scents Hangin/ with men under surveillance from the government While Don Juan types floss rites - she's chewin' on ice Meditatin' with her camp gettin' damp She's a femme fatale freak bitch high maintenance Got her fuckin' clit pierced chained to her anus Professional fo wettin' niggas up, suck em first till' they bust Swallow nut then she's quick to strut right ou the projects Been a whore since '91 Suckin' niggas dicks for fun holdin guns in her buns Type of chick to tel you fuck her in the ass talkin' shit while she's going LALALALALALULULLU On ya dick!!! (hook) I remember that freak bitch up in the club a Victoria secret she gives love no matter which way you keep it you get thrown out the picture now peep it you get the glove bitch........... Its been years since I've sen the queen of reen on the screen so I stepped up to her screen door like a dream or better yet like a fin needing a fix she wasn't like other chicks on the scene puling schemes for chips she was like Run DMC tougher than leather raw bitch but then she was soft like a feather never again will I meet a woman of her nature sky pager turned of dating one of the Lakers lucky ass nigga with a jump-shot he got that hot shit all in his pocke on lock damn I guess I'm jealous that other fellas got with her but her sister's bangin too what should I do? Fuck it I'll do like my nigga Smooth would the princess planting my seed in the next queen of Buddha bless fuck playing the 2nd string on the squad I'm blowin up all in your face word to God. B Smooth 2nd half of 2nd verse Yeah, I fucker in the hershey tunnel Deep inside it made her pussy bubble A Yo! She told me that it loves you I told her arch that back and let me see that ass And then I kissed it licked it stuck my nose all in position I told her baby listen -- Can't you see my fuckin dick is Throbbin' She started gobbalin, slobberin' dick gurgalin 'Burpin' it I told her it don't matter baby jusst don't bit it No nolds barred my dick was hard enough to dent a car I stuck it in between to spread da red sea apart The pussy fart was a mothafuckin' work of art She rode my dick just like a kawasaki till her puss started Soundin' sloppy like an old jalopy Time to nut took off the condom slapped her on the butt Then I busted in her in between her lips, then she started Lickin' it because it was good shit! Protein packed enriched Yeah I got my shit the Freaky Mr. Ricks (hook) I remember that freak bitch up in the club a Victoria secret she gives love no matter which way you keep it you get thrown out the picture now peep it you get the glove bitch.......... |
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| 10. |
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Intro: B-Real and Sen Dog
B-R: Pa' la salud! (to your health!) SD: Pa' la salud! (to your health!) B-R: Primero yo... (me first...) (gulp) B-R: *grrrrrah!* B-R and SD: *mexican yells* SD: Cometelo! (eat it!) Verse One: B Smooth Word up, Tequila style... eat the worm Motherfucker (overlapping intro's end) Tequila spice, hot nice Milling rice, sipping on Jose Cuervo Down in Tiajuana, Mexico Thinking of the big score the night before Met the connect, who was impressively dressed In high fabrics With troops like Babe Ruth, up on the mezzanine Brandishing sub-machine guns, aye-yo It's all about the money, son Now that's the only reason We came south of the border, to complete this work order We gotta get it, no looking back, going all out for it Ready to attack, die in a minute flat for it As God is my witness, we got ditches for all you motherfuckin fake bitches It all boils down to the business Nothing personal, when niggaz acting like they helping you I fuckin blast you like Frank Castle, motherfucker! Chorus Tequila Sunrise, bloodshot eyes Realize we're all born to die So get the money nigga! (repeat 2x) Verse Two: B-Real I never knew money like this, in the palm of my hand 'Til I met the man with mad hook-up, and big plan Every where you look'a, he got everybody shook up Running for cover, the big bad WOOF, motherfucker He was like a father figure, show me the bigger picture Fuck slangin' on the corner, don't let the pigs get you Not like these fools who don't comprehend You end up doing a twenty-five bid in the pen You got that? Getting your cup, I took a swig The bitter taste of the 'mezcal', free worm shit Droppin' a lesson, he slapped my face, he said listen Pay attention brotha, you're my ace, but don't ever question Just do what I say, and you'll be rich And keep this in your mind: rats lay in a ditch with no spine Don't ever forget that golden rule in the game Cheers, they all know your name, it's like fame Why, women and money don't mix, like drinking an' driving Watch those conniving women and keep your eye out Always be aware of what's around you They wanna down you, and fuckin clown you Keep your shit in order the money won't stop Pretty soon you'll be on top Chorus Verse Three: B-Real Tequila Sunrise, with the bloodshot eyes My, my, my, how time flies and goes by surprise My mentor passed on and passed a warn to me, emergency For my enemies who wanna murder me Eat the worm, motherfucker, while you burn, motherfucker Better kill me, don't let me return, motherfucker Trust no man, cause I'll be back, you understand? With a plan, and my ace in hand, I want it all I recall the words from Jesus, you are the Juice Better go get it, don't let it get to your head, embed it Let these words stick, you better be ready to die Now take a fucking sip, caution it, but I never lie Chorus (music outro) |
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In the eye of the beholder,
the soldier begins the war. Fore score and seven bullets you hit the floor. Hit the outdoor, the darkness frightens you even more, I'm here to enlighten you with the hard-core. Bring it raw, like the red dead meat up in your plate, and I'll fill you up with the energy the Hill creates. I get sticky like the green bag of the bom diggy, now I'm fuckin with your head and you're realizing its tricky. Got you paranoid fellin the void, you can't take it, or avoid being destroyed freakazoid. Toyed with your mind all styles deployed you find danger, in the stranger eye's the killin comes second nature. Your battlefield of the mind is falling now who you callin out for help, and all your fuckin yellin is to your self. Crawlin and beggin for mercy means nothing when your bluffin I'm pushin the button and straight dumpin on fools frontin. (HOOK) Warpigs you dig, SIG kickin up Mr. Big take a sip of wine engage in a battle of the mind. You're feelin the force right from the source, ain't no remorse, your head is getting fucked and I'm skippin the intercourse. Behold the white horse your taking a loss neighbor, got the nina ross, don't lean across my fuckin paper. Chase a green back gladiator terminator, seed germinator the greater the risk you fuckin hater. Hit you the psychobeta clickin the fader slow, with the high low servin a blow who got the glow. Dead men tell no tales you fail to see the reason, I'm easin to squeeze the grigger go figure its killin season. |
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(Barron Ricks)
My flows most beneficent, most merciful, outrageous for wages, vibrate niggaz heads like pagers Too hard to handle son, we animals, biohazardous Ghetto evangelist, lyric distortions, abortions of fortune shit, shittin on your ASR-10 Sequence Fuckin up the disc These be the words blow niggaz acoustic nerves when I swerve I'm bustin adjectives and verbs at curves Hear the thunder then I melt the frozen tundra, sank Titanics Crack solid granite, initiate global panic Harlem got me branded, rhythms jingle like bricks These niggaz face it or face off, give up or break North My lines petrify your mind's third eye, when I'm high I pull the trey in your insides, I strike blindside Rip inside, my syllables simmer for every criminal in prison whose an individual lose that struggle My stories burst niggaz bubbles, make new niggaz mumble Ready to shed blood up in the jungles Aiyyo we livin it, magnficent Cypress, worldwide! (B-Real) I take the micraphone cord, use it as a rope to hang all the weak rappers for leavin the bullshit they wrote Counterfeit fools all in the pot, let em boil When we go platinum they go, aluminum foil The worldwide clicks and the parties with no parties Cause niggaz'll get you quickly like the skin off a blunt when they get burned and smoked, put out and used up Niggaz don't know how to act when they lit the fuse up Abuse them up, usin the nut, I'm usin buck Fearin of the shit, that's covered the script, deliver cuts Cypress Hill, Soul Asassins, all up in the club Showin love to everyone of you real niggaz Cause the hip-hop's pumpin through the blood in my veins like a junkie, fuckin with 'ron and cocaine Slay you both down, better hold down or get clowned by the world renowned, Cypress compound! (Chace Infinite) Heavy artillery rap niggaz attack from both sides of the map, leave you flat on your back, my thoughts dwell in the dark black abyss, Chace Infinite kicks rhymes over rhythm and spit hot flame from his lips I represent, the cream of the earth, bless his birth My order in the elements in the universe My mental enter your physical frame, penetrate like pushin your face straight through a window pane with twenty bars, I'm sinister God, administer pain to your paragraph it ain't hard, see I studied the life-science for years in this, doin songs with my indigineous peers n shit, hit you with the omnipotent gland The benficient stare, write a rhyme to shine light in your ear, don't make a move that'll end your career Stand clear, I stand firm on solid ground Pump Blood Sweat and Tears, verbal architect, engineer Shiftin your ear, to Cypress Hill, you wack niggaz caps is peeled, the scientific Soul Asassin We dominate tracks and thrash in the front lines Soldier ready for action, rapid fire rappin |
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| 13. |
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Hello, I'm Dr. Greenthumb
Have you ever had the problem of running out of weed and just can't find some anywhere? Well try my Dr. Greenthumb grow tips I'll show you how to grow inside and out From seed to clone, and the best homegrown And if you're afraid of those pesky pork choppers in the sky No worries, we'll fix them too with one of our Dr. Greenthumb 'Sizzlean' screens to block the nosy pig's vision Don't believe me? Just ask one of my many satisfied clients here Jed Sanders how well it works Hyuh, hyuh, hello mah name is Jaid And ahm a farmer and I've been growin mary-jah-wana fer about twenty years and uhh uhh, with Dr. Greenthumb's 'Sizzlean' screen I don't hafta point my shotgun at them pesky porkers no more Thanks Dr. Green, you're tha shit Yes, Dr. Greenthumb's got it all, I guarantee it Try my book and you'll have the chronic in no time Dial 1-800-713-GROW That's 1-800 *cough cough* *inhale* 713 *cough cough* G *inhale* R *inhale* O-W "Hello Dr. Greenthumb, paging Dr. Greenthumb!" Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb I'd like to tell you just where I'm from In the hills where the trees grow wild with weed fields The fucking pigs with shields holding the blue steels Greenhouse effect with the weed connect (Doctor) DEA can't keep Greenthumb in check (Doctor!) HPS, God Bless the whole crop Please God, don't let me see no cops Trunkload, ready to hit the highway Don't let the eye in the sky fly my way or we gonna have big trouble, that's no shit Can't be growin without no permit but fuck that, I study the 215 trip That way when they come they can suck my dick Weed can't grow without attention Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb! I'd like to tell you just where I'm from Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb! I'd like to tell you just where I'm from Aiyyo Dr. Greenthumb, come on back one time! People can't live without the herb man If not they'd be drinkin and drivin and swervin but thanks to Dr. Greenthumb weed grow in the backyard or inside with hydro To the cush plant brushin a tangerine dream Tasty, blowin a fuckin smokescreen Cycles of weed are constantly grown Somebody give me the razor to cut groves I'd like to stop, but it feels so good Horny plants stinkin up my whole neighborhood Sticky angel, I wanna leave it alone but never ever ever gotta worry from my home What that funny sound knockin at the door (Open up it's the DEA!) Sorry Greenthumb can't talk no more Please don't follow me into the sun Hello my name is Dr. Greenthumb Out from the lab, no need for rehab If I can't drive then call me a cab (ese!) In my closet the weed is dried out Like Eiht said, ain't no place to hide out I don't wanna buy no weed from no cop Get knocked up and they close up my shop That's why I buy no weed from no one That's why they call me Dr. Greenthumb The scientifical, mystical one Growin my crops with the rays of the sun Come one come all and see how it's done If you see the pigs there's no need to run Cause some of these pigs are down with Greenthumb But you never know what be the outcome You see the photo in the album The weed is growin like my erection Look I never told you where I was from Some call me Real, but I'm Dr. Greenthumb Dr. Greenthumb Doctor, your Bulova plant needs special tending to Doctor, we need more oxygen we need more CO2 Doctor, Dr. Greenthumb you're needed Doctor, dahyahahahhh... Doctor |
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| 14. |
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16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo.
16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. So many fuckin' MC's claim supremacy, on who's got hip hop locked it could never be, one crew or solo runnin the whole game that's bullshit. Like cops never sniff cocaine. But I'm takin on all comers, droppin bombers reducing numbers, makin it hot like the summer. this one MC couldn't deal with the skill like Jack did Jill I rolled his ass down the Hill. Beaten, broken, and coughin, and chokin on the rhyme, like a hooker suckin a dick for the first time. His rhyme was hallow with no flow to follow bust the nut all in his mouth and made him swallow. I'll take 16 MC's and lock 'em in a room, make 'em feel the contact, eatin the mushrooms. Playin with your mind makin you feel the force, Had to cancel out 2 punk niggas up in the Source. They tried to get double XL they still fell, bitches go tell your troubles to Montell. 16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. 16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. I'm trippin on the people controlling the airwaves got in goin on, you know it all but God save, youass for clashin, with a Soul Assassin that's like Mike fuckin with poppa Joe Jackson. Ass whoop all over the place, you can't hide behind the physical better run to the spiritual. Ass whoop critical or you can get it from the lyrical dysfunctional, hypocritical smile on your face fuckin' cynical shit braines. As I sit back and say tally ho one of these days your punk ass gonna go wish you had a key to figure the fuckin flow but you're locked out and the bombs about to blow. 16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. 16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. 12 punk to go who's next on the list matter of fact I got one in my head to fix. There was one particular fool in teh circle who fell off greed over came a nigga, who at all cost. Changes up to gain it all but shared none. Who made him all the money to over come, Niggas upo on the Hill in the lab, while he was rollin big baller style high profile. Oh child, make wanna act juvenile, all smiles right in my face, but wait a minue now. Welcome to the 360, degrees pay a fee when you're fuckin your people over the cheese. No soul, no conscience, no loyalty, to the niggas who got him treated like royalty. When your4 times up you're gonna end up seein visions of everybody you fucked over, you're scared sober. 16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. 16 men on a dead man's list yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. Fuck the hater with the symbol and soul nad the bitch niggas who stole my care stereo. Trick Dees get no love he gets nuts like ass Miller and the fuckin x dealer. Can't forget the niggas who was down with the Hilla, You get bumped like C Tucker and Will Benette let step over the Hump and represent it. You go down like Jerry and get smacked like Trick Leo now here's your fuckin eulogy o. There was 16 men now there's no one left yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. There was 16 men now there's no one left yo ho ho, and a bag of indo. |
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Now this some baaad weeed...
(B'Real:) The very first time I hit the weed I was young Coughin up a lung, high strung, back in '81 Goin to school, hittin the buddah behind the bleachers Comin to class high, sellin the lye to the teachers Nickel bag, nickel bag, dime to a nickel Sellin joints to the honeys suck it like an icicle Others wanted the 40 but I wanted the weed While everybody was runnin out, I was plantin my seeds Homegrown, backyard boogie, I'm still stoned Got my weed plants taller than your telephone's corner I can remember when I could only get sess in those days Now I'm rockin that chocolate thai, skunk and the haze Roll a fat one, pass it to the left don't front But I hate it when they don't take the seeds out the blunt A bunch of blunt-rollers are like rookies on the field Spillin the weed plant fuckin dookies with no skill I should write a book, how to roll it then pass it Light it, grow it, sell it and then divide it Mr. Greenthumb, Dr. Weed, I proceed to give the herb man what they need True indeed, blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky And get high with your bong or your philly or dutchess give me a light (Chorus:) Grab the weed up, pack it in, put it in the pipe Light it up, smoke a bowl, we puffin the lye right Put your finger on the hole and hold it in brother Take a puff, that's enough, and pass it to another Get the weed sack, smoke it up, til it's all gone No roaches up in the ashtray, smoke up all the bomb I usta spend money but now I'm growin the crops But I hate it when the pigs throw a raid on the spot It was once said I smoke so much weed, by a brother That I look like the nigga on the zig-zag cover Maybe I usta look like that way back when When my nigga Sen Dog was around sippin on the Hen Let the fly rhymes smother you with the scent of the skunk We got the High Times cover shows you how to roll a blunt Quarter pound, quarter pound, pound to a quarter Makin trips to Mexico runnin down to the border Long hairs, bald heads, dreads and punk rocks Kids of all colors be puffin it down the block I got the weed on lock with all the hydro methods Call me Puffy cause I makin and takin a hit record Blow your fuckin smoke up in the sky and get high With the bong, philly or dutchess, give me the light |
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| 17. |
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1st verse
Sen Dog Ain't takin nobody back wit me It's on to the end anybody Who wanna get me Ain't lookin back putting all on the line Don't give a fuck bring the ruck one time and I think we should all get down and busy display the footwork leave you psinning till you're dizzy Niggas say who is he but I know for a fact the same fool that's watching is the one who will stab yo' back So make plot patrol nonstop know exactly who comes on the block Take no prisoners put that into effect get the name from your set Tat it on your neck gotta let these motherfuckers know who got next South side Cypress venue out here Out here catchin' wreck and show your respect when you step up to me son Don't immitate cause my style Ain't in season go back to the lab up grade chump get a new chump on before you get Dumped on. (hook) Melt down, takin you home the unknown count down, hittin the grown the seed grown downtown, creepin through alleys the dark night gets lit up when lightning strikes get up. 2nd verse Take a ride when lightening strikes city light are gleamin no sun shine no California dreamin The demon is roamin on the loose who got juice suffer abuse when electric currents are induced. Soul shocker lockin on rock on the brain waves what you clockin on I'm droppin a bomb you get maimed the games you play look up and say you wanna change and rearrange its strange you never go that way. Don't look back forget that you need that just sit back look at the show you see that. Display the raw power black out even the score open the door and break out leave it alone the unknown fury the blind rage step aside get fried and make the front page. Center stage you ask the task to leave quick or suffer the pain leavin no hope to be fixed your heart beat pumpin your blood high pressure look at you stuck in the mud bring in the stretcher strapped down ready to roll to God knows tears coming down of buckets of rain slow. (hook) Melt down, takin you home the unknown count down, hittin the grown the seed grown downtown, creepin through alleys the dark night gets lit up when lightning strikes get up. |
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| Disc 5 | ||||||
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Cypress
Cypress Cypress Cypress Cypress Cypress Cypress Hill Cypress Hill Uh Cypress Come on Cypress Uh Cypress Hill Come on Cypress Hill Come one Cypress Uh That's right Don't touch that dial |
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B-Real :
It's been a while now Been around the block many miles Many faces, many places that I found friends Places where I spend time, places where my mind roam Places I can call home Places I can get stoned I just wanna be alone When I'm feelin' in my zone People want to knock me down 'cos they never have their own They won't get the best of me But they try hopelessly Why you wanna fuck wit' me? I'm not, what you s'posed to be? You could not give a DAMN Coulda just Killed A Man Sawn off in my hand But I had to kill the plan Think I've found my piece of mind Feet planted on the ground I just had to redefine, what I thought to myself It all goes around me and others who would down me Who I don't give a fuck about, Trouble always found me, I know used to welcome it with my arms open wide, Trouble's hand's on the door, but it can't come INSIDE! Chorus: NO TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! You want trouble, c'mon, You want trouble? You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? Sen Dog: Trouble on the line, all the fuckin' time Got me contemplatin' the solution, the fusion my wicked mind Got suckers that hate me but it don't really matter I'm like a gat when I bust, niggas run and scatter Movin' in circles, throwin' elbows and fists You got to be a real nigga in a Cypress Hill pit Lotta critics talkin' shit, but I'm not concerned A hundred G's for sixty minutes is the bank I earn I try to put it to you BLUNTLY so you bitches can learn That no-body get tired when it's time to burn With so many phonies out there a lot of you have been fooled In to actually believin' that some shit is cool Take the blinders off and go look for yourself Fuck hearin' about shit from somebody else I'm down for myself, I back up myself Put in all on the line make sure that I'M FELT! Chorus: NO TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! You want trouble, c'mon, You want trouble? You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? B-Real : Nooooo! B-Real: Look, the wall's closin' in and my shoe's wearin' thin Had to be the biggest clown that you couldn't comprehend Some hated on my game, said I wouldn't be the same Called me "Rock Superstar", "Insane In The Brain" But I know I haven't changed So I brush you to the side Trouble's knockin' on the door, Anxious jus' to come inside 'times I gotta block it out, no-one likes to talk it out Trouble keeps comin' and I can't seem to lock it out Got my hands on the phone, I don't wanna have to talk If you're feelin funky son, then I guess you gotta jump I can see it in your eyes, you don't seem to recognise I wouldn't fall into your trap, for many lives to compromise I'm not fallin' for your shit, you ain't gonna take me there You can talk all you want, but I don't got your weight to bear Chorus: NO, TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! {You want trouble right now? C'mon You want trouble right now? C'mon} B-Real: You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? (Repeat 4x) |
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Chorus: Kurupt and B-Real (repeat 2x)
You don't know no real shit, nigga (it's the real shit!) This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga You ain't on no real shit, nigga (B-Real) '91 (*echoes*) Cypress Hill burst upon the scene Three crazy, gun-totin' niggas smokin' weed Talkin' about life on records was the whole plan So we put out The Phuncky Feel, (?) and Kill A Man (KILL A MAN! *echoes*) That was about the time we was openin' up for ?loyalty? Didn't know shit, we were jus' tryin' to rock the party '92 (*echoes*) a year later, 'bout a million records sold From doin' shows like Lollapalooza on the road Buildin' up momentum, whilst spittin' deadly venom Takin' pictures for High Times, three months (?) Chillin' with the Beastie Boys, smokin' lots of weed But it was time to hit the studio for another LP '93 (*echoes*) Black Sunday hits, with critical acclaim Had a monster hit from Insane In The Brain Topped the charts, held the spot, for six weeks to boot It was a trip to note, that we was the first ones to do it in rap music, but it was a feat none the less So we started gettin paid and I stopped smokin' STRESS! Chorus (B-Real) '94 (*echoes*) still in the door and we conquered many tours With Rage Against The Machine, House Of Pain and many more Was even invited to Woodstock, some niggas from the block called up Eric Bobo and half a million rocked How could all this happen at 24 years of age? Half a million bouncin' to your shit from off the stage '95 (*echoes*) I was alive and survived so far (*"(Rap) Superstar" xylophone*) Still tryin' to cope with bein' a Rap Star 'Cos that's the type of shit that can really affect your mental This was evident, in the way I broke the tempo With confusin,("I'm havin' Illusions") pain, and (?) illusions But I still kept my set up with the critics bein' abusive (yeah) Even the record company, they became illusive When it comes to showin' support for the Cypress institution '96 (*echoes*) wit' no support we were still makin' moves Cypress Hill, in the summer, we were on the Smokin' Grooves But like every legend every click, someone had to split So the Dog left the house, shit was gettin' kinda thick I was with the electric lady, we was talkin' about babies but the groupies on the road don't help me from misbehavin' Chorus (Just 1 repeat) (B-Real) '97 (*echoes*) was the trip, it was the year we killed the feud Between us and Cube, over shit nobody knew The Dog came back home (*barking*) but after Smokin' Grooves 2 Chillin' with George Clinton and Erykah Badu This was a crazy time, we were flowin' off the boo Niggas on stage, trippin' on the 'shrooms '98 (*echoes*) was kinda great, cos it felt just like before We hit the studio, recorded Cypress Hill IV But someone dropped the ball, as I still recall 'Cos it felt Cypress Hill got no support at all We did the last Smokin' Grooves, but did it all with Sen and the old chemistry, just reared it's head again '99 (*echoes*) I got to recline, because there was no doubt That the first year was a success, of the Smoke Out '99 was even better than the year of '98 and Skull And Bones was comin' out, kickin' from the gate TWO-thousand! (*echoes*) 15 million records sold They broke the mould, but there's others along the road But we still keep rollin' on from Heaven to Atlantis Droppin' shit in English and makin' albums in Spanish Two-thousand and one! (*Echoes*) Goddamn, who knows what's in store? Just as long as motherfuckers know, who's knockin' on the door We remain unjaded and still we go unfaded See how long we made it and never ben outdated (B-Real) (Sen Dog) We ain't goin out, motherfucker (That's right, FUCK that!) You don't know (?) ((?) time Cypress Hill) (Motherfuckin' renovaters up here) Chorus (Outro - Kurupt) (It's the REEEEAAAAL!) Nigga, nigga Ni-ni-nigga |
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(Intro: MC Ren)
Yeah, y'all know what the fuck this is MC motherfuckin' Ren up in this bitch nigga Yeah, all y'all bitch-ass niggas out here talkin all that shit We 'bout to drop this motherfucker on y'all like this (gun being loaded) Punk ass niggas out here, nigga We some Southland Killers in this motherfucker (gun is cocked) (GUNSHOT) (MC Ren) Niggas all acrosss town, up in the suburbs While niggas makin' faces like The Rock on the curb Nigga People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold And groupie niggas bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?) Big-ass cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's) And hoes wit' big lips doin' what they suposed (yeah) Didn't have shit 'till I started to bust And y'all got shit 'cos of my balls are cussed Ren and Cypress Hill, they ain't liver than us Nigga Legendary Villian, who started the fuss Nigga double glock, cocked, get your shit rocked Get your crib knocked, nigga have that rib popped Under bosses and trouble, they under my rubble Clone motherfuckers, always the villain, like The Hubble Fuck your bubble, I bust them shits Plaques and shit, grab my dick, spit these hits (Chorus: B-Real) All, my niggas, do you wanna ride wit' us? (Do ya wanna ride wit us?) (Killers!) Throw your clips up, man we's about to bust (Man we's about to bust) (Killers!) Cy-press, Hill click, yeah we ready for war (Yeah we ready for war) (Killers!) All y'all niggas, better just hit the floor (Killers!) (King Tee) I'm close to the best thing, on the West Wing Blown out your set, flames when the best sing It's a rep thing, haters feel they chest pain They feel it in they heart, I was there to test things Didn't arrest (?), the bullet-proof vest team These niggas shoot first they they askin (?) names It's less strain It's all real, I bet fame, it's a chess game Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right) I might sound funny out here But really, niggas get money out here And hey, everyday is sunny out here So listen, don't play dummy out here King try for bust make your whole pack run Stacked enough cash so now I stack guns Fat ones, all cold and black ones Southland Killin', it's just how that's done (Chorus) (Sen Dog and B-Real) You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill but when your shit (?) is when die on the Hill We get, hot on the heel, rely on the steel When your paper gets pulled and you design is steeled Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will (Sen Dog) BUSTERS GET SLAYED...! (B-Real) ...when you fuck around with Real Take time to feel, what I'm tellin' you hoes (Tellin' you hoes) You couldn't fuck around with me if I was sellin' you blows Just goes to show the incredible skill tell Bitch nigga, now you trapped under my wig well Gettin trampled, DUMPED on and thumped on Scraped on the six-five with the HAND ON THE PUMP SONG (Sen Dog) Don't even fuck with these Southland grandes We the vatos that run on Los Angeles Call me Mad Dog, if you think you know me If you're not sure then turn around and LEAVE SLOWLY! (Chorus) |
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B-Real
I lost my innocence at birth but I make no excuses for the trivial things and the pain life induces Bitches are wild, and so was I, young and stupid it's incredible, what a shitty circumstance produces them Criminals, led by the originals, high strung, motivated by the, principles some of us out - he used to think we were invincible on the corner bangin' and slangin' the high bitual Deadly rituals fill my head, nothin' spiritual Bullets filled up bodies like hands from my physical I got touched by the hot hands of bitter fools Divided and tempted snake bitten by the ridicule Frustration and hate filled my adrenaline I play doctors here's two bullets for your medicine I carry those days like a weapon close to me The memories of hot lead rippin' a hole through me (Chorus: B-Real) Son, fill your heater, how bout chase killer Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter Snakes' pit every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong You hate the songs that you pump up all day long Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong Stand... B-Real So many, come and go in this lifetime that you serve Faces change, liscenses' everywhere you turn Gangsta's become blinded, visions become blurred Learned to stay alive to the real side of the curb You came along way but some still refuse to notice they turned they back on us and they tried to provoke us You ask about us, you talk trash about us walk fast around us, but my block fast allowed us Don't try to crowd us nigga, we'll smack you up Look around and see who's willin' to back you up You're in a ghost town and home alone like Macaulay nigga don't say my name nigga, don't even think of me Fire start spittin' from my grill piece, ya scorched up, touched up I'm the C4 that blew up your porch I spit venom quicker than the punch on your Porsche Venom so deadly I'll make your fuckin' life divorce ya Ask for Alamoney, bitches, you all phoney I'll make you sing the blues like you're Paulpau Coloney Go ask Moley, you in the middle of shit And anything you say I'll be known the shit The force drops hits a ball, makin' me die of laughter Cause I know what these son-of-a-bitches are after Your mind and soul, if your blind and cold then your true sign is shown, then your fuckin' mind is blown (Chorus: B-Real) Son, fill your heater, how bout chase killer Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter Snakes' pit every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong You hate the songs that you pump up all day long Hated on, but we're still standin' strong Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong Stand... |
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(Intro)
("Say what?" scratched repeatedly) (Sen Dog) I be that, short-temper, hostile rhyme bringer Lifestyle gone wild, similar to rock singers Check me on the big screen, livin' out my dreams Cypress, Assassins, SX, latin thug thing Fools think they get bad, I ain't really with that Flavour of the month, bro, (?) try to dispatch Always got the good badge, take it to the head Got me wasted like Jerry from the Grateful Dead Don't trip, get a grip, be strong and don't fake it Or else you get beat down, an' stripped butt-naked I just kick the lyric, straight from the spirit You can tell I got soul first time as you hear it (Chorus - Sen Dog and B-Real (repeat 2x)) Welcome to the show, all come inside You can hear proper sound when it's Amplified You wanna party with the best and say "fuck the rest" 'Cos we take away ya stress and never settle for less (B-Real) When you deal with the Hill, keep your mouth still If you rely on your skill then rely on your steel If you have no ideal, or any thoughts to feel What you sought was real, to give 'em slots to fill Busters stop to deal But I face them, quicker than takin' a box of pills Now you gots to chill Get cops and sheilds, steady, hark the (?) If they're lookin' for prey, ready to stalk and kill As I lock the wheel, don't you mock the drill 'Cos I'll cock my steel, make you drop and spill Got no mercy unless you talk to deal Quit talk and kneel, you won't top my will, bitch! (Chorus (repeat 2x)) Welcome to the show, all come inside You can hear proper sound when it's Amplified You wanna party with the best and say "fuck the rest" 'Cos we take away ya stress and never settle for less ("Say what?" scratched some more) (Sen Dog) Ain't no-body better, on that you can bet (CY-PRESS!) Wanna see a dope show? Put your money on my set Real emcees and real DJs Real South-siders from the heart of LA Now, back in the day we had big sucess And it's like that now and we won't settle for less You can beat the LB from the new latin lingo Nowadays you nothin', without a hit single Time to get loco, and put bodies in motion Hit the stage in a rage, and start up a commotion No I ain't jokin, see my mic smokin'? I slam it like the art and make sure it's broken (Chorus (repeat 2x)) Welcome to the show, all come inside You can hear proper sound when it's Amplified You wanna party with the best and say "fuck the rest" 'Cos we take away ya stress and never settle for less (scratching to fade) |
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As I sit in my silver stack thinking about way back
Even before I started blazing the chronic sack I was a go wild unfocused troublesome kid Looking up to all the gangsters and the shit they did I was at unimpressionable age through a faze An unmentionable stage deranged full of rage Walking through life in a haze with dark clouds Hanging over my head being wicked and loud And sometimes those demons haunt me and taunt me Follow me pursue me confuse me they want me They come at me from all angles and dangles Memories in front of me, but I wont run away I put the gun away but sometimes my hand ditches But I don't want to get locked away cause I whack bitches I left those ways back in the old days So go away I don't got no time to throw away (Chorus) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out her so I can survive) I got my education on the streets And I learned how to spit rhymes out with or without beats To say whatever I went through or going through Tripping off people who acting like they been knowin you Learn how some of these record companies be holdin you Attaching an image in the end controllin you But we set out to set ourselves apart And let these people know just what they had from the start It's like Ghostface said we studied our art form We turned the mike on and spit a fucking dark storm People slept on me and doubted my skill level But I'm tenacious and I got a strong will level You been introduced to some of the real rebels Injected with venom from god to kill devils (Chorus) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out her so I can survive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out her so I can survive) I remember my days as youth Teenage gangsters with somethin to prove See man amuse and we creep and we strew Catch your ass slipping and dump on their crew Just -- having fun but you crazy kids Never thought about no prison beds Got gang-sters twenty-five and alive Never see the kids all fucking wild But that's the game and shit don't change Get respect for smoking brains You get a name and you build your rep You courting fools coming in your set Before you know we're having fun Slamming doping and packing gun Leaving mad traces and blasting their faces Got a hundred years for all my fucking cases (Chorus) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out here so I can survive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out here so we can survive) |
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(Intro 4x)
Lalalala-lala-lalala (B-Real) I'll admit, I was a wild seed when I was a kid Slangin dope, poppin Shroomz and droppin lots of sin Psychodelic visions would ensue My view feelin the alter-states as they altered my fate But I ??? ???, all that distorted shit brought it up I came short and couldn't afford to store it up So I began to record it on audio The autobiography of Luis Mario Something that's unbelievable, inconceivable That half the shit I set out to do was achievable But alas, look at all the shit come to pass While we remained strong, others broke like glass Cos you lack style, and you need all the help brother Cos you're fragile, and it should say it on your cover: This side up, for the celebrity Who lacks intelligence, integrity, intensity Oh it's true, I got you in that angle like Kurt But don't go gettin your fuckin feelings hurt I spit many bars of heat, that burn like a furnace, I pour rhymes out like coffee spillin out your 'dermis (Chorus 2x) (Lalalala-lala-lalala) I got my 9mm at my waist, papa I got my shotgun in the escalade, papa If you feel groggy then jump and get sprayed, papa I don't wanna but you dug your own grave, papa (B-Real) You know me and you've grown with me And if I had a big enough pad, I'd take you all home with me I don't walk around with bodyguards, that's not me I'm hangin out with the people as my posse Used to have a lot of enemies with bad intentions Spreading gossip like disease, creating lots of tension People turn around when you become a star it seems But others hate you all cos you've fulfilled all your dreams They smile in your face and act like nothing's wrong When you turn your back, they hate, and play one of your songs Why don't you take your mask off, look me in the eye? You afraid I might blast-off and call you on your life? Take a deep one, and peep son Retribution comes around more than once, like a re-run You're a cheap one to kill, so steep son You're just another one who gets thrown in the quay, son Chorus: (B-Real) You know they smile in your face, You know they try to take space I let you punks know you ain't safe Cos you know you're just dead-weight But at the present day they gettin stalled out for some reason But not from me, because it's punk-hunt season Charged with high-treason, I'm easin the blow never The ????, that you're leasin, ain't gonna roll forever So think about that, is it worth the pain? When you flirt with pain, bitch you don't hurt your brain But you're thick-headed, numbskull and Rick said it: It was the moment you feared, when my venom spreaded (Chorus 2x) You know they smile in your face You know they try to take space I let you punks know you ain't safe Cos you know you're just dead-weight |
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| 11. |
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Lowrider"
(feat. Mellow Man Ace) (Mellow Man Ace: repeat 2X) Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der.. (Intro: B-Real + (Mellow Man Ace)) Aww, comin through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby Got that junk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three (low-ri-der) So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight (B-Real) Now when people are done, bumpin they head to this You wonder why you wanted anything instead of this We been makin you bounce, for many years already Rock steady and cut, many niggaz to confetti But I just want to blaze it up; whether it's the mic or a spliff Yes my gift is to amaze you all Thought I couldn't come for ten my friend, but guess what? I slay niggaz and still savin my best nut (low-ri-der) But you better cover your eyes, cause you never know when I spit it out and start some flowin I drop rhymes that grow like trees you're smokin Ear drums feel like lungs, your brain's chokin Just let it soak in, seep in, creep in I'm keepin, all you motherfuckers in the deep end (low-ri-der) You wanna trip? Then I got luggage I stuff you in and send you off, cause you ain't rugged (Chorus + (Mellow Man Ace)) Aww, comin through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby Got that junk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street (low-ri-der) We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three So pop yo' collar, give a holla, throw the dubs in the air (low-ri-der) We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight (B-Real & Sen Dog) Cause, we're Cypress Hill, come on and ride with us Just get inside, we bouncin dippin, chop it up real tough Lean to the side, pimp yo' hat, tilt yo' seat on back Don't front on me, baby boy, and break bread with the sack (low-ri-der) (Sen Dog) I be the vato with the fine hoodrat in the ranfla Always roll deep on the streets like the mafia Pleito, just might come back and haunt ya Flossin too much, no vato's gonna want ya Not right here homes, we're past all of that Makin that feria, spittin that raps Ya me conoces, I'm down for my calle Cypress Ave, y a pudo les madre (low-ri-der) Ya tu sabes, we don't play that shit Any pendejo's gettin hit up quick Whassup ese? What hood you claim? Now throw it up and down like it ain't no thang (low-ri-der) Hands in the air with the pinky rings Soul Assassins, runnin everything To all you vatos, make sure you check this In every barrio, I'm well respected (low-ri-der) (Chorus) (Mellow Man Ace: repeat 4X to fade) Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der.. |
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B-Real
I slay punks who don't know their own identity You spit my name and use it like an obscenity You got more skulls in your closet than a Kennedy You on my nuts so you better hold tenderly I can tell you what's crackin' and done get splitten You corrosin' on the floor, shaken and snake bitten You in a cold sweat like James of the names you knew Don't mean shit to me and you ain't got a clue of what's about to happen - interaction Two worlds collide - one survives the reaction Hold tight, keep yourself together cause we're about to storm you like shitty weather (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) (B-Real) I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe (Sen Dog) Set yourself up for catastrophe and that's the only way that is has to be The whole damn world is mad at me But I don't give a damn, I'm just glad to be All pain and the fame a society, actuality, it's a formality How can I say: "You ain't shit to me" Without you takin' it personally Sen Dog Ten, proper years of bringin' funk I, still count mine, it's hella gettin' over the hump I got the loads on the skull, I got my hand on the pump Still got the boss to go nutty on you punks (yeah!) I don't wanna be the King of the Sing Just a Soul Assassin for the Cypress Team I rhyme and sing and make bitches scream They love that old South Side gangsta lean Call the Psycobeta, I guess you're crackin' Turn into Mad Dog when I start rappin' Look at hostile - ah, damn wild Shake you up in a hurry from the voodoo child Don't get caught up hangin' on the mortar Hold on and I'll turn y'all punks all wild (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) (B-Real) I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe (Sen Dog) Set yourself up for catastrophe and that's the only way that is has to be The whole damn world is mad at me But I don't give a damn, I'm just glad to be All pain and the fame a society, actuality, it's a formality How can I say: "You ain't shit to me" Without you takin' it personally 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, come on! B-Real I'm tired of whack rappers and fame seekers Like you know the deal to be in my same sneakers I don't mind exposin' you hollow bitches I got the medicine over the swallow bitches You play roles like an actor but get no oscar Gun spray, gunned away, cut from the roster You're just an imposter, you lost your composure Respect your exposure to bring you to your closure But you're in denial and still remain vile In a place within last style and senseless wild I take you down the long trail you failed to keep up That's when you get introduced to the street sweeper (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) (B-Real) I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself UP FOR CATASTROPHE!!! (Sen Dog) Set yourself up for catastrophe and that's the only way that is has to be The whole damn world is mad at me But I don't give a damn, I'm just glad to be All pain and the fame a society, actuality, it's a formality How can I say: "You ain't shit to me" WITHOUT YOU TAKIN' IT PERSONALLY... |
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(Kurupt)
Yeah Bitch, Dogpound and Cypress You Fuckers what you think about that B wizzle You know it, my chizzle& & Yeah with Muggs What it is &. Sen Dog! Get it real Gangsta! (B-Real) Bitch you try to spit on, you best get on Before things start to happen and I lose my calm, Cuz I just wanna puff weed and tip my cup (Yeah), Smoking on a Kush Weed, not ginving a Fuck, Rhyme Flow, Mack-o-hoes,?& Stack dough! But niggas wanna do Shit to make me reexoed, so& Insane in the Brain, let it rain on a bitch nigga Haning on my chain cuz you runnin into &. a rich nigga You can t feel me without the br..ill I m like that Shit that will catch you without the yale ??? Make busters pay & cuz they see too much *But really all they want was just me and Kurupt* (Chorus 4x) Here is something you can t understand How I Could just kill a Man (Kurupt) Penetentionaries stop for centuries They got to be real like me and B-Real See you shot, you rhyme but we kill Concentrate unload an on Steal Tippin ya head up Nigga, yes we will Riding on nigga that when the ma... spilled Pistols launch up and travel like & animals& and & What you gonna get, nigga? &. I seek the hot girls, so struck by Get em up drive by, Watch em gone drive by Yeah paranoid, we drive by till we die You Nigga s really don t know Shit, I treat niggas like hoes with they silly long g* (Hook 2x Kurupt) Here is something that they just don t get I don t Give A Fuck Nigga, nigga I don t give a Shit Here is something that they just know Back/Crack to Fo, dipping through the back door (B-Real) This is a dope blast Cos I ain t finished, We re like a pack of *panorama* In Your *Soul Assessino* Attackin you, till there is nothing left for your mama East side niggas, Do you wanna die, Hitting Switches in the Cadillac Getting thru real high, coz we live this & this B really fast&& (Sen Dog) I m ignoring all this dumb shit Cuz these vatos can t hang With the maddog I m here with that thang Dump on that ass if you fuck with my business Stop Pop, and drop all of you Withness Glock slug and unlock if you listen Buck shots, hardstop up his snitches That s what you get when you fuck with the real Hardcore Nigga said: Pack That Steel (Chorus 4x) Here is something you can t understand How I Could just kill a Man (Kurupt) (B-Real) (Hook 2x) Here is something, that I think you just can t understand And you wonder why and how it is I could just kill a man You see, in these streets I pack my heat cuz should it be for real And if you think you wanna come and test me then come there with a steel |
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