| 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. |
| 3:29 |
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Are you ready? Ladies and gentlemen Bout ready to get down? (repeat 2x) Ladies and gentlemen Verse One: B-Real Well I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One Cypress Hill has come, any quest/just ask them Cause we are answerin, any brothers that've been On the dick swingin, and straight gatherin Enter da info, cause yo what you're in fo' Is a crazy day, strapped in a pimp mode Trapped like a prophet, but I still profit Even when you're off it, bank's in my pocket Cause of my music, what you call me chumpy? In my trade, the Tribe is known to get funky Hif is here to hack you sown, Son is here to buck you down Joke's on you, if you're the biggest duck in town You got to relax, we got to kick back Brothers just sit back, enjoy me like a six pack As I let the rhyme flow, into the hook Yo where you gettin took, but that's another story black Chorus: B-Real Cause I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One You know I'm the Real one, yes the Phuncky Feel One Verse Two: Sen Dog, B-Real Night in a stiff block, hangin up the pimp's jock Used to call me Pimp Poppa, cause I likes to hip-hop Cause I'm down with Cypress, illin well I might Begin to take your girl, your girl she's the flyest Flyer than the other broad, workin off the pitched rod Isn't that odd, instead of sayin my dick's hard It's not about knockin you, do you feel like clockin loot? Forget it act stupid little sucker I'll be clockin you With the right or left hand, duck they was still stand Troopers on the side step, bucks him down to death man With the greater lyric, if you can spare it Just an ass kickin, is what you inherit So don't try to snake off, you know I can't be shook off Why the suckers took off? Well that's another story black Chorus Verse Three: B-Real, Sen Dog Standin on the corner, close to the real estate Clones they really pull stickin brothers try to imitate Meaning when they simulate, but they can't stimulate Like a faded joint, stiff from the breath I take Make me act loco, they switchin up my vocal Out to catch you so-called, MC's with a roll call Then you gotta close your eyes, you can't stand the sunlight There is just one light, the Tribe's buckin heads tonigght Buck buck buck ya head! Sorry that red is dead Deader than a doornail, someone cold made his bed Didn't just break out, the sucker got cracked out Hit the pipe and blacked out, with the shit from back down So much more integrity, greatest deal I hook up Was a funky looker But that's another story black Chorus: (together) |
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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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Stoned is the way of the walk Stoned is the way of the walk Well it's the alley cat Puffin' on a hootie rat Some think I'm a criminal But yo I ain't all o' that Hit ya with a baseball bat An' ya wanna ill though Wanna mess around ya get bucked 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 with Chong Just like Cheech 'n' Chong frontin' with ice cream Cypress hill is here to give you a nice dream Speak it like a roller and you know its rolled tightly I like a funky beat so why ya tryin' ta fight me Pigs often cite me That's not polite G At any hour of the day you know I might be Harassed by a pig real fast They wanna Rodney King me Always tryin' ta crowd my ass Ain't got no class I hit they ass like the Buddha that's stinky They wanna scruff but they just so rinky-dinky I'm the freaka, the one who freaks the funk Sen got the Phillie an' he's gonna light the blunt Sippin' at the kufu Make me go cuckoo! Somethin' like loco Then I turn into this loocool Bringin' the beta yeah now the funk's risin' Got the beta bass and the nasal highzen As I kick a drum beat comin' straight from my sinus Crazy nasal vocals can I make the hotties loco I remember Sister Maggie Breasts were kinda saggy Used to sell me buddha out of fucked up little baggies Honey'd up a twenty even when I had no money She said "Pay me back with some Latin dick Sonny" I'd never went out and I don't think I'm gonna Just for some buddha she wanted me to bone her Demeaning You think you know what I'm meaning I got somethin' for the ho's to be scheming On the Buddha Real I took a trip to Hootaville I'll throw you out the door of my big blue Seville Then light another joint This ain't no exploitation For we are the ones stonin' in the ways of the masters Stoned is the way of the walk Stoned is the way of the walk Stoned is the way of the walk Stoned is the way of the walk "Hit the ass Hit the ass like the buddha that's stinky" |
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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 * * (data) You're lookin at the Tribe, and you're a hater Comin from inside, means I come better or should I say rather, together I'm gonna set ya head in the casket, your body in a basket A tisket, a tasket -- I told ya I'm gonna blast ya When I'm on the psycobeta, state of mind over magnum, you know I'm gonna tag them You're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down What you're runnin from, is the psycobetabuckdown! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] Psycobetaduckdown baby! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] It's a psycobetaduckdown! Huh! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] It's a psycobetaduckdown! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] Somebody's gettin bucked down [B-Real] See I'm from South Central, bustin out my metal rapid-fire petal, funk is makin me get mental Yo, it make no sense, so here son ? Sen start the massacre, as I get nasal The phase'll be like a murderer's maze yo You won't find B-Real, inside any kind of cage yo Sen is the gangsta, me I'm just a pimp Broads swingin off my dick like a chimp, simpin So what's the story - you come lookin for me? Better just scatter, or you're gettin leaded I'm the one who said it, boy it doesn't matter You're gonna get splattered, with my funky ill juice Cause I'm +The Phuncky Feel One+, makin you get real loose My intellect, dialect, dialogue, intellect, catalogue from what you want me to select different forms of beta, psycho for alpha The way I stay in control of myself I'm not one of many penny ante on the gauges in the stone ages, make minimum wages Show me where the stage is, I come to get the brain on HEY MAN, get the fuck off the 'caine bruh! You're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down What you're runnin from, is the psycobetabuckdown! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] It's a psycobetaduckdown baby! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] Psyco-beta-rrific, in profile [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] It's a psycobetaduckdown! [B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta [S] Somebody's gettin bucked down [B-Real] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta Yo where's the hooda? Hahaha, funky, yeah I don't like that crazy shit man.. |
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| 12. |
| 1:15 |
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This is something for the blunted Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva everybody CHIVA Somebody say chiva |
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| 13. |
| 3:59 |
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[Sen Dog] Freak to the funk that no-one else is bringing Sen Dog with the funky bilenge Yeah that's the nombre, heard the homey Peace to Mellow and Frost, and the deporte Sen Dog is not kid from the Telano I'm down, another fried hispano One of the many of the latin deseyano [de-say-ahnyo] And I got plenty for the Jennies tryin to hound dog But wait, they're clownin on me cause of my language I have to tell em straight up, it's called spanglish Now who's on the fiend, gala gringo Tryin to get paid, from the funky bilingual Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual Yeah, funky bilingual! Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual It's the latin lingo! [Sen Dog] From the entro, when I come in, suckers fronted They mida, another bilingual from bein a banga, como ejemplo, check the tempo Ahh, it's that chingonla instrumental Ya no usted, como somos Yo no jovo, I gots the soul dose And you can hear it, in las skonkas Tribal ceremony as the Hill gets stronger Don't be such a leper what chupa la cabeza Hey homes, pass the cervaza Before I have to go and push up on your resa Hmm, she's fine, son que fresca Here homes have a hit of this yesca Deep yo enseno [en-senyo] the lingua la prento Now you know, that I am in the centro Where you live, si tu puedes Nowadays you ain't shit without your puentes Something like it's gangbang, vatos get it BANG BANG Could of hung out with them now you callin me a insane Senta la mi cado, senta mi conmigo Make way, for the the funky bilingual Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual Funky bilinguals hoe! Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual It's the latin lingo, baby! Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual Funky bilingual... Some of that old Latin funk, knowhatI'msayin? [Sen Dog] (What's up homey? Don't you know me?) Si mon (Ain't you the brother of the mas pingo?) Straight up And I'm down with La Raza Kid Frost got my back, BOO-YAA! in la casa Cause everyday things get a little crazier As I step to the microphone area First I claim my city, pudo los angeles [an-heles] Yeah (you know homes) that's where the calles is Vato wouldn't know me, along with the heinas Catchin all them slippin, for they such a one-timer So when you see me at the party or the baile Before I got here I was gaffled in the calle Troop like a vacho who said I was baracho Had an attitude, tried to play me macho Just relax, calmado mijo Sen Dog with the funky bilingual Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual Funky bilingual Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual Funky bilingual Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual Funky bilingual... funky baby! Yeah, I'd like to send peace, to my homeboy B-Real Mellow Man Ace, Kid Frost, Ralph M the Mexican And we're out |
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| 14. |
| 4:01 | 
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| 15. |
| 1:55 |
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[Sen Dog] Conozco una muchacha y ella es fina Tremendos cocos y tambien es linda A veces me la cojo en la cocina Esta muchacha me chupa la pinga Yo le dije dame tu bollo Me dice negro loco tu no eres mi novio A mi me importa un carajo A mi cuarto meterte un palo Por tu culo o por tu chocha Y ya tu sabes que no me importa Y ella me dice Senencito Yo pienso que tu eres bien rico Cuando me toca por mi frente Ya tu me tienes bien caliente Y cuando me tocas por detras Ya tu sabes sin parar Acabe de 'singar' y me levante Fui al ba? y me ba? Sali del cuarto y me esperaba Con los ojos negros y bonita cara Me pongo mi camisa y mi pantalon Se rie y me dice: Negro sea dienton... Uhmmm... estaba fina Esta muchacha estaba tan pingada Hay! cuando se lo met?Cuando se lo met? grito: Papi! Estaba del carajo duro esto No cuidate cuidate Nunca habia singao yo como singue esa vez Ah bueno.... estaba fina... |
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| 16. |
| 2:59 |
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Born to get busy, born to get busy baby born to get get busy, we were born to get busy baby. I'm the stiff and I do get naughty so up the pussy when you're in the same party Yo we can do this but we can't be maxxin' your big ass is useless unless I'm taxin' This is the productin and my tribe's the cast I'm known as a musician and by trade I ask I'm no body's kid brother that means I work for this task. I went to school aqquired knowledge I'm a scholar went to college. All comes very handy when it comes to push and shovin' No I'm not a sissy, so don't ask who is he I'm Stiff the neutral brother who was born to get busy. Let us start to freaky you, and we'll amke you feel alright when you come to Cypress Hill make sure you're down with the tribe. (chorous) Cuz we're Born to get busy, born to get busy baby born to get get busy, we were born to get busy baby. Born to get busy, born to get busy baby born to get get busy, we were born to get busy baby |
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| Disc 2 | ||||||
| 1. |
| 2:55 |
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I wanna get high...so high (repeat) Well it's the funkalistic, the blunt I twist it, the slammafied, buddahfied funk on your discus. Oh what you missed us you've got to bare witness catch a hoe and another hoe Merry Christmas. Yes I'll smoke this straight off the roach clip, I wrote shit for the blunted ones to approach it. For one motion make you sway like the ocean the herb is more than just a powerful potion. What's the commotion yo, I'm not fuckin' around people learnin' bout what they smokin'. The oven's on high when I roast a Quale tell Bill Clinton to go and inhale exhale now you feel the funk of the thai when i fell the effects, " I wanna get high...so high (repeat) I wanna get high...so high". |
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| 2. |
| 4:28 |
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COMMIN' OUT DA SLUMS!!! It's da hoodlums I'm pullin' my gat out on all you bums So bring it on when you wanna come fight this Outlaw, I'll kick ya like Billy Ray Cypress Hill Kill, I'll bust that grill Grab my gat, and load up the steel And if you wanna get drastic I'll pull out my blasted glock, automatic, Synthetic material, bury your blocks-n-mortar Headed down to da Mexican border Smokin' that smellie, Northern Cali, Gonna put a slug in Captain O'Malley Ho, hum-Hear the gat come Boooooommmmmm! Let me see what you'll do when you're sent 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 gats'll be smokin' I'll be damned if ya think I'm jokin' Know that I come with the static, erratic, .45 automatic Screamin' at ya-the red lights beamin' at ya No need to run after the punk-ass who'd run up to my crew Dig the grave for the one who got played Now he's under Don't make me wonder why 'cause you'll testify We ain't goin' out like that I got to 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 poof of the magic buddha When I roll with my crew I betcha one time can't find my hooda! Hits'll be hitting with the belt unbuckled (I don't know this line) Pig rollin' up but he ain't that subtle Pulled to da curb So we exchange a few words But he got me stirred up "Ought not to grab the handcuffs. I'll huff-n-puff-n-blow ya head of!" We ain't goin' out like that EAT A BOWL OF DICK UP!! GEEEYEAH!! (Final Speech) Yeah takin' your disses and dissin' ya right back This is the Cypress Hill crew, like main shit Yo and 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. |
| 3:28 |
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Who you tryin to get crazy with ese? Don't you know I'm loco? To da one on da flamboyant tip I'll just toss that ham in the fryin pan like spam, get done when I come and slam Damn, I feel like the Son of Sam Don't make me wreck shit, hectic Next get the chair got me goin like General Electric Annnd, the lights are blinkin I'm thinkin It's all over when I go out drinkin Ohh, makin my mind slow That's why I don't fuck with the big four-oh Bro, I got ta' maintain Cause a nigga like me is goin insane Insane in da membrane.. insane in da brain! Insane in da membrane.. insane in da brain! Insane in da membrane.. crazy insane, got no brain! Insane in da membrane.. insane in da brain! Do my shit undercover now it's time for the blubba blabber, to watch that belly get fatter Fat boy on a diet, don't try it I'll jack yo' ass like a looter in a riot My shit's fat, like a sumo, slammin dat ass Leavin yo' face in the grass Cause you know, I don't take a duro, lightly Punks just jealous cause they can't outwrite me or kick that style, wicked, wild Happy face nigga never seen me smile Rip dat main=frame, I'll explain A nigga like me is goin insane Like Louie Armstrong, played the trumpet I'll hit that bong and break ya off somethin soon I got ta get my props Cops, come and try to snatch my crops These pigs wanna blow my house down Head underground, to the next town They get mad when they come to raid my pad and I'm out in the nine-deuce Cad Yes I'm the pirate, pilot of this ship if I get with 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 |
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| 4. |
| 3:09 |
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When The Shit Goes Down
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) *love teto* |
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| 5. |
| 3:24 |
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Zipidi do da zipidi a my oh my I wanna get that punk with my AK. Then get on the way, on the mission, puffin' on a fat ass jay. Fool you can't hang, flashback on the skills when I use to bang, on the corner, I warn ya I'm gonna roll on ya. Fool, hit you with the golden rule. Don't turn your back on the street, when I hit corner feel the concrete. If you push that button like nothin' watch me turn to a psycho all of a sudden. Blastin' at these fools with a passion. Look at the clock when its time for some action. (chorous) "Let the gat hum/ let the gat hum.. Lick a shot So I let the gat hum/ let the gat hum Let the gat hum/ let the gat hum.. Lick a shot So I let the gat hum/ let the gat hum" Sunday morning wake up it's stormin' raindrops fallin' on my head it's pourin' cats, and dogs, pigs in a wagon, lookin for the afro one that's saggin' Scooby doo and fuck you too, lymie, won't let your punk ass try me. Gonna take more than you, call for back up team, and wait for your crew. Cuz I'm the flippin' keep in the clip by the hip and best watch when your slIppin'. Where did that 22 come from when the bullet pass through my lung. I lost my breath, I'm winded I've been hit by a slugg that was'nt intended. I hear thunder, I wonder if a nigga like me's goin under take a number. (chorous) "Let the gat hum/ let the gat hum.. Lick a shot So I let the gat hum/ let the gat hum Let the gat hum/ let the gat hum.. Lick a shot So I let the gat hum/ let the gat hum" I had a bad dream woke up in a casket, now I can't even get back at the bastard. Bullshit, this pine box ain't strong enuff to contain the afro-locks. Heard a doorbell ring, snapped out the dream. What the fuck's up with the funny red beam? Pointing at me, and I got no strap gee. What now, Gotta duck they're gonna cap me. Dam! I feel numb, where did the shotgun blast come from. "Let the gat hum/ let the gat hum.. Lick a shot So I let the gat hum/ let the gat hum Let the gat hum/ let the gat hum.. Lick a shot So I let the gat hum/ let the gat hum". |
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| 6. |
| 4:22 |
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I'm a chicken hawk, huntin' for a chicken get paranoid when you hear the glock clikin'. Speakin' to the punk that's tweakin' with your bitch hair style I'll hit ya like Deacon-Jones house call for DR Bones I'll roll you up, and smoke you like cones, split the seed and grow you like clones don't start me up cuz I'm not the Rolling Stones. But I get stoned with a lil help from my friends with the good belnd, then I pass it round back to you again. I could make you famous like Amos same as the last punk when I stuck the gat up his anus. Hear me growl, uhh, howl I got the night vision like the wise old owl. I'm comin' to fetch ya, yea homes I'll wet ya and burry them bones under my home.and I. Cock the hammer/ cock the hammer it's time for action Cock the hammer/ cock the hammer it's time for action. With my weapon, step into a whole new realm and step back as I take up the helm. On the pirate ship I'm stearin' drop into gear and best realise what you're hearin'. The canon soundin' that's my companions surroundin' as my crew comes poundin'. It's the captain Afro- America a whole lotta gattin' with the loc-ed out latin. Bust it, yo I'm Red Beard with a musket you better duck Quick cuz you might get dusted. Your gat looks rusted disgusted, oh look away, look away boy as I rush it. Yes I know that you can' withstand it, watch that ass, cuz homie I'll brand it. With a steele toe how you feel though when my boot's stuck in that ass like a dildoe. Cry on the pillow, ya weepin' ass willow the Hill's got the steele for the static like brillow. Huh! watch you btalkin' bout punk give me room as I light up the boom. Cock the hammer raise the white banner, You 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. REPEAT |
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| 7. |
| 1:17 |
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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. |
| 3:40 |
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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. |
| 0:47 |
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Marajuana plant is a hemp plant
It's used for many other things than just smoking One acre of hemp produces four times as much paper than an acre of trees (Legalize it) (Legalize it) Pot herb marijuana (Legalize it) Every denomination every color every religion (Legalize it) George Washington grew hemp on his farm (Legalize it) That is just 1 1/12 I have given you all the seed bearing plants on earth to use (Legalize it) |
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| 10. |
| 2:41 |
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Hits From The Bong Hits From The Bong Hits From The Bong Hits From The Bong Pick it, pack it, Fire it up, Come along, And take a hit from the bong, Put the blunt down just for a second, Don't get me wrong it's not a new method, Inhale, Exhale, Just got a ounce in the mail, I like a blunt or a big fat cone, But my double barrel bong is gettin' me stoned, I'm skill it, There's water inside don't spill it, It smells like shit on the carpet, Still it, goes down smooth when I get a clean hit, Of the skunky funky smelly green shit, Sing my song, puff all night long, As I take Hits from the bong... Hits From The Bong y'all Gonna get high, Hits From The Bong Gonna get high, Hits From The Bong Gonna get high, Hits From The Bong Let's smoke that bowl, hit the bong, And then take that finger off of that hole, Plug it, unplug it, Don't straaaain, I love you Mary Jane, She never complains, when I hit Mary, With that flame, I light up the cherry, She's so good to me, when I pack a fresh bowl I clean the screen, Don't get me stirred up the smoke, through the bub-bling water, Is Makin' it pure so I got ta', take my hit and hold it, Just like Chong, I hit the bowl and I reload it, Get my four-footer and bring it on... As I take Hits from the bong, Hits From The Bong Can I get a hit Hits From The Bong Can I get a hit Hits From The Bong Can I get a hit Hits From The Bong Can I get a hit Hits From The Bong Can I get a hit Straighten your dick out... Can I get a hit ... |
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| 11. |
| 3:42 |
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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. |
| 3:28 |
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[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. |
| 3:32 |
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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. |
| 2:45 |
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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. |
| 3:40 |
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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 smokein' this, 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, yeska, humble pound weed, the crypt, the choclate tide, the afgani, the meefrakan, the indo, the skonka, the bad breath sense (cough). Hello everyone, I'm Kurt Loaded, we're here t 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. |
| 4:06 |
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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 your neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on the mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air (c'mon) Wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air (throw it up homes!) 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 ask you ?? 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 Los 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 (c'mon) Wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air (throw it up!) Wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air (throw your hood up!) Wave it around like ya just don't care (got c'mon on!) Throw ya set in the air (give it up!) Wave it around like ya just don't care Nigga throw your set in the air, nigga you know I'm sayin' If you're scared nigga take your muthafuckin' punk ass to church Cause this one from a nigga on the east side Every muthafuckin' day is a job nigga Gotta handle your business, niggas you get don't You muthafuckin' cap on get peel back And it ain't no bullshit If you wanna test a nigga, bring it on nigga, you know I'm sayin'? Fuck your muthafuckin' set up in the air 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 ya set in the air (c'mon) Wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air (throw it up!) Wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air (throw your hood up!) Wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air (give it up!) Wave it around like ya just don't care Yeah, that's right Straight givin' up the 'hood long day fool! Cypress Hill muthafucka watcha wanna do? Hell no, Givin' my shit to be in your face fool! |
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| 3. |
| 2:54 |
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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 blvd., I'm a natrual-born cap-peela', strapped illa, I'm the west coast settin' it on, no one's reala', Get'cha 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 got 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 takea, few steps back I'm on a plane to Jamaica,(Am I) 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. |
| 4:28 |
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Some people tell me that I need help Some people can fuck off and go to hell God damn, 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 gat to my money and I'm hooked on chronic I never wanted to hurt a nigga Unless ya come flexin that trigga, I dig ya That grave on the east side of towwwwn Lay ya six feet undergrounnnnd From man, to the dust to the ashes All I remember tell me where the cash is Clicl-clack, barrel at my dome Give all your loot or you ain't goin home But I ain't goin out with a bang Wa da da dang, wa dada daa dang I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's fuckin me up in my mind I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's fuckin me up in my mind Motherfuckers be drivin me up the walls Hopin that I fall but they can lick my balls Straight jacket, strap it In a padded room when some punk niggaz can't hack it Distracted from all reality Now I'm let out on a minor technicality (ahhh) They all fucked up now Cause they let a nigga back on the streets 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 just smoked at the crack spot I'm tryin to find ways to cope But I ain't fuckin round with the gauge or a rope I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's fuckin me up in my mind I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions, all this confusion's fuckin me up in my mind I'm havin illusions.. |
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| 5. |
| 4:02 |
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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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| 6. |
| 4:01 |
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Boom biddy bye bye Boom biddy bye bye Step back as I'm kicking up dust For a while As I put mothafuckas to rest And pull their files Out from the cabinet With the picture Get the 45 and settle it With this punk nigger Slow your roll As I take control Take your toke from the Indo' Then hit and hold Now let it out How you feel when the herb Got you by the balls And you're coughing up a lung anyhow You can't shake That nigger that's gonna brake Fool On any one member of your bitch crew As I pull the trigger On my nine Say goodnight nigger Boom biddy bye bye Boom biddy bye bye Put your ass on the floor an' don't ask why Boom biddy bye bye I put my Glock to your dome and you started to cry Boom biddy bye bye Any last prayers before you die Boom biddy bye bye Rock-a-bye nigga boom biddy bye bye You ain't never caught a rabbit So you ain't no friend of mine It's a habit Barkin' up your tree with my nine Keep your bitch on a leash or at home A nick knack Paddywack Give the dog a bone The raw dog Fuck a law dog Still handin' out beat-downs wit' my sawed-off 'Cause a every now and then I got to knuckle up Buckle up Chin checking It's on I reckon It's the wild wild west Get your 40 and your blunt and your Glock and your bulletproof vest Let me guess Everybody wanna test Everybody burning up, gonna get burned like Ses Laudy daudy We're fucking everybody Boom biddy bye Sing the lullaby In the party Boom biddy bye bye Put your ass on the floor an' don't ask why Boom biddy bye bye I put my Glock to your dome and you started to cry Boom biddy bye bye Any last prayers before you die Boom biddy bye bye Rock-a-bye nigga boom biddy bye bye Yes yes ya'll To the beat ya'll Watch a punk slipin' see the pouta fall I'm buck-loody Looking for the nigga who wanna cut me 'Cause the nigger gets so funky Fool I'm the one From The big bad Cypress Hill clique, a Number one son of the funk freaka Yes yes ya'll I'll be the one with the mad Buddha blast ya'll Comin' from the west ya'll But I figure You'd cry like a bitch Don't twitch 'Cause I just might pull the trigga Now lay down Stay down Don't move a muscle if you see your homeboy's brains on the ground Don't fuck don't say nothin' You fuck around and I might get ragamuffin Boom biddy bye bye Line up on the floor now you' all gonna die Boom biddy bye bye Put your ass on the floor an' don't ask why Boom biddy bye bye I put the Glock to your dome and you started to cry Boom biddy bye bye Any last prayers before you die Boom biddy bye bye Rock-a-bye nigga boom biddy bye bye Boom biddy bye bye Put your ass on the floor an' don't ask why Boom biddy bye bye I put the Glock to your dome and you started to cry Boom biddy bye bye Any last prayers before you die Boom biddy bye bye Rock-a-bye nigga boom biddy bye bye Boom biddy bye bye It's time to die Boom biddy bye bye Time to say good-bye Boom biddy bye bye Now it's time to die |
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| 7. |
| 5:01 |
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...yo 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 so 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 & tear this motherfucker up! Talk about Ezy, correct yourself. Cube, better step back check yourself! 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 King Sun! He tried to warn us niggaz aboutcha But nobody would listen, even started dissin' Two albums later, you callin' my crew, All because ya wannabe Cypress Cube! Shoulda known 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 Boy N Da Hood! No Vaseline, Just a rope & a chair & gasoline! Lench Mob is a friend of mine, But you talk about them niggaz from behind. You know what the Hossack(sp) 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 running outside! Natural Born Bullshitta! Lemme hitcha With a dose of reality when I get witcha! Your homie...? Put a pipe on the cover, even though you don't smoke Buddha! Let me take you down under on a plane Where everybody was going insane! Took a look at the Real one, AFRO COMB! Next morning you didn't have yours on. How many ways will you bite my shit? Wouldja wet me or start throwing up a set? Caution, when you enter the zone, Never used to bang 'til you heard the microphone! I got Cube melting in a Tray, Pulling up his card & 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. |
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| 8. |
| 4:31 |
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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! |
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| 9. |
| 2:57 |
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[B-Real] Living in the city of the Scandalous Shisty motherfuckers, 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 want to rush this Loco, trooping ass nigga with the cash, shit Motherfuckers just get your own, and leave mine alone Forty-five places to get done Send out your invitation To the party of your elimination I got peeps that play for keeps, (Hardball) Now I'm laying your ass down to sleep But every hustler wants to be bawling But I got the balls for the shot calling I pull strings, the Don King, only in America Then I hustle, and flex my muscle [Hustlers] Yeah, man, I've been out here running game for eight years I know I'm getting tired of standing on this corner Nigga, I want a fat pad, and fly ass pool Finest motherfucking bitches, jewels and all that shit, if I got to take it from a nigga Shit, let him run for me then I can work for myself, don't have to work for nobody, I'll be my own hustler [B-real] Where can I roam to get my hustle on Killafornia, stacking the chips, got the full clips Loaded and cocked, I'm used to running with the Glock Nina Millimeter, lighting up the fucking block Now, who you gonna trust?, who can you trust? I don't know, but if you coming on my corner I think I'm gonna bust You can't handle us, devious, dangerous Criminal mentality, insanity I move weight, from state to state All the niggas moving weights, can you relate? [Hustlers] Damn, what's up, I see you pushing that big time weight I told you, I wasn't bullshitting You coming up, aight! When I seen you three or four months ago I told you Got respect for a man now Handle your shit! [B-Real] Where can I choose to get my hustle on? In the alleyway, lighting up all night long Fuck working at McD's, I'm rolling with the O.Z's In the QP's, puffing on trees Who can I trust?, who can you trust? Not that shady motherfucker in the city Los Scandalous [Hustlers] Well, well, little man came up a little bit It feels good having money in the pocket Fuck that nine to five bullshit, right? Yeah, kick that shit to the curb But you got to look out for the scandalous motherfuckers Cuz niggas is tricky than a motherfucker Yeah, but motherfuckers got to look out for us too You know what I'm saying I'm just as shisty as a nigga Shit, set me up and niggas are gonna die You get set up back, cuz we ain't having that bullshit I got your back, you got mine, that goes without saying Twenty-seven and mo' baby, twenty-seven and mo' Let's get the fuck out of here" |
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| 10. |
| 3:12 |
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Let me introduce my self I'm the one who rules the set So don't you forget Bad for ya health but ya still be tryin' ta push buttons But you ain't nothin', no frontin I bring the level up a little louder In the clubs, an' the jeeps an' the after hours Fools on the street wanna feel the funk Lookin for the 'skunk' that's what'cha want Ya betta, sit back and let the track flow Like smoke in ya lungs from puffin' on the indo Rythems upside'cha brain, can ya hang, can maintain Can ya feel the funk flowin' in ya veins Get'cha fix and ya bag of tricks In tha mix I got the stix and stones a few bricks I'm gonna hit 'em high He's gonna hit 'em low Open up ya mind so that'chu can feel the flow On, an' on till there all gone Fools be runnin' but they won't last long I'm the freaka I'm the freaka I'm the freaka I'm the freaka People always wanna get what you got, no matta what Can't take care of themselves in the big hunt In the quest for the crown An' the jewels, and the cheese Motherfucker please Enemies wanna plot against me with envy in they hearts But, I rip their sorry ass apart In a minute, I can take ya to the limit Temprature risen, nasal highzen Comin' back in with the lows, for the fows Fuckin' up egos, an' anybody, oppose The numba one skunk freaka, the Cypress Hill cliqua Blowin' a hole in tha speaker You don't wanna dis the Perro, the Real One, or the Werro Slangin' rythems through the ghetto Ya best keep ya ass in cheak Come on little mutha fuckas betta show respect An whats next, the big brown takin' ya down How ya feel (how ya feel punk) When your sorry ass can't hang with the Hill I'm the freaka I'm the freaka I'm the freaka I'm the freaka Can ya feel the effects of the chocolate tide Nobody even knows how I kick the flow Slow down, cause ya commin' up too fast Ya might get smacked down cause ya got no class |
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| 11. |
| 3:36 |
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You don't want to turn your back on me When you least expect it I come with a wicked method I'm creepin on ya Now you find your homeboy's Bleeding on ya It's the the locote coming out the bote I got a new jale jacking in the noche Give me your ferja In your pocket or they'll carry ya Off and burry ya in the eastside area 4 and 3 and 2 and 1 The thievery don'nt stop 'til I get done Sometimes I don't even need my GAT But shit's getting deep and I gotta Blast back to thievery 1 robbery 1 robbery Cuz jacking is my hobby Give me that money, Jewelry your keys To the five-o outside on deez Later, out with the 85 mustang One-time got me on the radar Trucha! And you don't stop 'til i'm done Now the puercos got me on the run You don't want to turn your back on me When you least expect it, I got your keys In my possession with my smith and wesson Taking out all my agression Check it out =E9s=E9 you're looking At the jefe Of that clica with the big bad trece I teach you a lesson, no question Get your ass out ow you're passing out When you look at the cuete 4 and 3 and 2 and 1 The roberydon'nt stop 'til I get done Some niggas do this shit for fun Now the puercosgot me on the run from varrio to varrio Looking for anybody, Oh Cesario Hanging out with Mario Looking for a place to hide Spank got my back over there right And it don't stop 'til i'm done Now the one-time got me on the run One-time's not done with us Now they're looking for my ride But i'm on the bus Don't turn your back on a vacto like me Cuz i'm one broke motherfucka In need Desperate! What's going on in the mente Taking from the rich not from my gente Look at that gabacho slipping Borracho from the cerveza He's sipping No me vale, madre Gabachopray to your padre This is for the time you would Give me the jale 4 and 3 and 2 and 1 This ol motherfucker, got him a gun Bla-on!I took one to the kneecap Things happened so fast now I dropped my strap Now I'm about to meet my maker I thought I had it all, figured it out For the paper No longer will I be running Last thing I heard was the Fuckin GAT humming |
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| 12. |
| 1:47 |
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[Sen Dog] "(Inhales) Break that shit off nigga" [B-Real] Look at all the M.C.'s trying to get down But all you get is a peeled back, dome cap I'm not the one to be having that shit All these punk niggas better bow down and submit Niggas don't know how to "keep it real" Only if you niggas know the real deal Fuck all the bullshit, Cypress Hill Comes raining on your brain Bringing the blood stains Smeared on the sidewalk, one mark dome of the prejudice skull, hanging in my home "Straight to you dome sucker So what you wanna do fool" [B-Real] The Big Game hunter, fucking shit up Get your ass back down, the Hill's on the cut Who'll get in the circle, let's see if you're raw Hardcore, last vato might hit the fucking floor Glocks and ?, in them one clip For any buster who wanna flip Back ese ?, shining in your eye Soul of an Assassin, until I die (Por vida ese!) Red light visions in your dome piece Nightmares running through your head, won't cease Look at you now, broke down and done No competition can ever get none "Straight flip-flop, nigga, flip-flop on your punk ass until you drop (Cypress Hill, coming at your grill) You're nothing but a motherfucking time clock Cypress motherfucking Hill (Fuck how you feel) It ain't but another piece to the puzzle fool!" |
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| 13. |
| 4:32 |
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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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| 14. |
| 3:42 |
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Fuck all y'all I'm comin' of the wall I got a nigga from The Sourcs 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) Pointed at your ass for the 1-8-7 You better move your ass to this MAC-11 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. |
| 3:03 |
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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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