| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 1:03 | 
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Cypress
Cypress Cypress Cypress Cypress Cypress Cypress Hill Cypress Hill Uh Cypress Come on Cypress Uh Cypress Hill Come on Cypress Hill Come one Cypress Uh That's right Don't touch that dial |
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| 2. |
| 4:59 |
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B-Real :
It's been a while now Been around the block many miles Many faces, many places that I found friends Places where I spend time, places where my mind roam Places I can call home Places I can get stoned I just wanna be alone When I'm feelin' in my zone People want to knock me down 'cos they never have their own They won't get the best of me But they try hopelessly Why you wanna fuck wit' me? I'm not, what you s'posed to be? You could not give a DAMN Coulda just Killed A Man Sawn off in my hand But I had to kill the plan Think I've found my piece of mind Feet planted on the ground I just had to redefine, what I thought to myself It all goes around me and others who would down me Who I don't give a fuck about, Trouble always found me, I know used to welcome it with my arms open wide, Trouble's hand's on the door, but it can't come INSIDE! Chorus: NO TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! You want trouble, c'mon, You want trouble? You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? Sen Dog: Trouble on the line, all the fuckin' time Got me contemplatin' the solution, the fusion my wicked mind Got suckers that hate me but it don't really matter I'm like a gat when I bust, niggas run and scatter Movin' in circles, throwin' elbows and fists You got to be a real nigga in a Cypress Hill pit Lotta critics talkin' shit, but I'm not concerned A hundred G's for sixty minutes is the bank I earn I try to put it to you BLUNTLY so you bitches can learn That no-body get tired when it's time to burn With so many phonies out there a lot of you have been fooled In to actually believin' that some shit is cool Take the blinders off and go look for yourself Fuck hearin' about shit from somebody else I'm down for myself, I back up myself Put in all on the line make sure that I'M FELT! Chorus: NO TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! You want trouble, c'mon, You want trouble? You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? B-Real : Nooooo! B-Real: Look, the wall's closin' in and my shoe's wearin' thin Had to be the biggest clown that you couldn't comprehend Some hated on my game, said I wouldn't be the same Called me "Rock Superstar", "Insane In The Brain" But I know I haven't changed So I brush you to the side Trouble's knockin' on the door, Anxious jus' to come inside 'times I gotta block it out, no-one likes to talk it out Trouble keeps comin' and I can't seem to lock it out Got my hands on the phone, I don't wanna have to talk If you're feelin funky son, then I guess you gotta jump I can see it in your eyes, you don't seem to recognise I wouldn't fall into your trap, for many lives to compromise I'm not fallin' for your shit, you ain't gonna take me there You can talk all you want, but I don't got your weight to bear Chorus: NO, TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! {You want trouble right now? C'mon You want trouble right now? C'mon} B-Real: You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? (Repeat 4x) |
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| 3. |
| 4:43 |
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Chorus: Kurupt and B-Real (repeat 2x)
You don't know no real shit, nigga (it's the real shit!) This the original Cypress Hill shit, nigga We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga You ain't on no real shit, nigga (B-Real) '91 (*echoes*) Cypress Hill burst upon the scene Three crazy, gun-totin' niggas smokin' weed Talkin' about life on records was the whole plan So we put out The Phuncky Feel, (?) and Kill A Man (KILL A MAN! *echoes*) That was about the time we was openin' up for ?loyalty? Didn't know shit, we were jus' tryin' to rock the party '92 (*echoes*) a year later, 'bout a million records sold From doin' shows like Lollapalooza on the road Buildin' up momentum, whilst spittin' deadly venom Takin' pictures for High Times, three months (?) Chillin' with the Beastie Boys, smokin' lots of weed But it was time to hit the studio for another LP '93 (*echoes*) Black Sunday hits, with critical acclaim Had a monster hit from Insane In The Brain Topped the charts, held the spot, for six weeks to boot It was a trip to note, that we was the first ones to do it in rap music, but it was a feat none the less So we started gettin paid and I stopped smokin' STRESS! Chorus (B-Real) '94 (*echoes*) still in the door and we conquered many tours With Rage Against The Machine, House Of Pain and many more Was even invited to Woodstock, some niggas from the block called up Eric Bobo and half a million rocked How could all this happen at 24 years of age? Half a million bouncin' to your shit from off the stage '95 (*echoes*) I was alive and survived so far (*"(Rap) Superstar" xylophone*) Still tryin' to cope with bein' a Rap Star 'Cos that's the type of shit that can really affect your mental This was evident, in the way I broke the tempo With confusin,("I'm havin' Illusions") pain, and (?) illusions But I still kept my set up with the critics bein' abusive (yeah) Even the record company, they became illusive When it comes to showin' support for the Cypress institution '96 (*echoes*) wit' no support we were still makin' moves Cypress Hill, in the summer, we were on the Smokin' Grooves But like every legend every click, someone had to split So the Dog left the house, shit was gettin' kinda thick I was with the electric lady, we was talkin' about babies but the groupies on the road don't help me from misbehavin' Chorus (Just 1 repeat) (B-Real) '97 (*echoes*) was the trip, it was the year we killed the feud Between us and Cube, over shit nobody knew The Dog came back home (*barking*) but after Smokin' Grooves 2 Chillin' with George Clinton and Erykah Badu This was a crazy time, we were flowin' off the boo Niggas on stage, trippin' on the 'shrooms '98 (*echoes*) was kinda great, cos it felt just like before We hit the studio, recorded Cypress Hill IV But someone dropped the ball, as I still recall 'Cos it felt Cypress Hill got no support at all We did the last Smokin' Grooves, but did it all with Sen and the old chemistry, just reared it's head again '99 (*echoes*) I got to recline, because there was no doubt That the first year was a success, of the Smoke Out '99 was even better than the year of '98 and Skull And Bones was comin' out, kickin' from the gate TWO-thousand! (*echoes*) 15 million records sold They broke the mould, but there's others along the road But we still keep rollin' on from Heaven to Atlantis Droppin' shit in English and makin' albums in Spanish Two-thousand and one! (*Echoes*) Goddamn, who knows what's in store? Just as long as motherfuckers know, who's knockin' on the door We remain unjaded and still we go unfaded See how long we made it and never ben outdated (B-Real) (Sen Dog) We ain't goin out, motherfucker (That's right, FUCK that!) You don't know (?) ((?) time Cypress Hill) (Motherfuckin' renovaters up here) Chorus (Outro - Kurupt) (It's the REEEEAAAAL!) Nigga, nigga Ni-ni-nigga |
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| 4. |
| 3:25 |
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(Intro: MC Ren)
Yeah, y'all know what the fuck this is MC motherfuckin' Ren up in this bitch nigga Yeah, all y'all bitch-ass niggas out here talkin all that shit We 'bout to drop this motherfucker on y'all like this (gun being loaded) Punk ass niggas out here, nigga We some Southland Killers in this motherfucker (gun is cocked) (GUNSHOT) (MC Ren) Niggas all acrosss town, up in the suburbs While niggas makin' faces like The Rock on the curb Nigga People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold And groupie niggas bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?) Big-ass cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's) And hoes wit' big lips doin' what they suposed (yeah) Didn't have shit 'till I started to bust And y'all got shit 'cos of my balls are cussed Ren and Cypress Hill, they ain't liver than us Nigga Legendary Villian, who started the fuss Nigga double glock, cocked, get your shit rocked Get your crib knocked, nigga have that rib popped Under bosses and trouble, they under my rubble Clone motherfuckers, always the villain, like The Hubble Fuck your bubble, I bust them shits Plaques and shit, grab my dick, spit these hits (Chorus: B-Real) All, my niggas, do you wanna ride wit' us? (Do ya wanna ride wit us?) (Killers!) Throw your clips up, man we's about to bust (Man we's about to bust) (Killers!) Cy-press, Hill click, yeah we ready for war (Yeah we ready for war) (Killers!) All y'all niggas, better just hit the floor (Killers!) (King Tee) I'm close to the best thing, on the West Wing Blown out your set, flames when the best sing It's a rep thing, haters feel they chest pain They feel it in they heart, I was there to test things Didn't arrest (?), the bullet-proof vest team These niggas shoot first they they askin (?) names It's less strain It's all real, I bet fame, it's a chess game Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right) I might sound funny out here But really, niggas get money out here And hey, everyday is sunny out here So listen, don't play dummy out here King try for bust make your whole pack run Stacked enough cash so now I stack guns Fat ones, all cold and black ones Southland Killin', it's just how that's done (Chorus) (Sen Dog and B-Real) You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill but when your shit (?) is when die on the Hill We get, hot on the heel, rely on the steel When your paper gets pulled and you design is steeled Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will (Sen Dog) BUSTERS GET SLAYED...! (B-Real) ...when you fuck around with Real Take time to feel, what I'm tellin' you hoes (Tellin' you hoes) You couldn't fuck around with me if I was sellin' you blows Just goes to show the incredible skill tell Bitch nigga, now you trapped under my wig well Gettin trampled, DUMPED on and thumped on Scraped on the six-five with the HAND ON THE PUMP SONG (Sen Dog) Don't even fuck with these Southland grandes We the vatos that run on Los Angeles Call me Mad Dog, if you think you know me If you're not sure then turn around and LEAVE SLOWLY! (Chorus) |
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| 5. |
| 4:19 |
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B-Real
I lost my innocence at birth but I make no excuses for the trivial things and the pain life induces Bitches are wild, and so was I, young and stupid it's incredible, what a shitty circumstance produces them Criminals, led by the originals, high strung, motivated by the, principles some of us out - he used to think we were invincible on the corner bangin' and slangin' the high bitual Deadly rituals fill my head, nothin' spiritual Bullets filled up bodies like hands from my physical I got touched by the hot hands of bitter fools Divided and tempted snake bitten by the ridicule Frustration and hate filled my adrenaline I play doctors here's two bullets for your medicine I carry those days like a weapon close to me The memories of hot lead rippin' a hole through me (Chorus: B-Real) Son, fill your heater, how bout chase killer Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter Snakes' pit every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong You hate the songs that you pump up all day long Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong Stand... B-Real So many, come and go in this lifetime that you serve Faces change, liscenses' everywhere you turn Gangsta's become blinded, visions become blurred Learned to stay alive to the real side of the curb You came along way but some still refuse to notice they turned they back on us and they tried to provoke us You ask about us, you talk trash about us walk fast around us, but my block fast allowed us Don't try to crowd us nigga, we'll smack you up Look around and see who's willin' to back you up You're in a ghost town and home alone like Macaulay nigga don't say my name nigga, don't even think of me Fire start spittin' from my grill piece, ya scorched up, touched up I'm the C4 that blew up your porch I spit venom quicker than the punch on your Porsche Venom so deadly I'll make your fuckin' life divorce ya Ask for Alamoney, bitches, you all phoney I'll make you sing the blues like you're Paulpau Coloney Go ask Moley, you in the middle of shit And anything you say I'll be known the shit The force drops hits a ball, makin' me die of laughter Cause I know what these son-of-a-bitches are after Your mind and soul, if your blind and cold then your true sign is shown, then your fuckin' mind is blown (Chorus: B-Real) Son, fill your heater, how bout chase killer Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter Snakes' pit every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong You hate the songs that you pump up all day long Hated on, but we're still standin' strong Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong Stand... |
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| 6. |
| 3:54 |
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(Intro)
("Say what?" scratched repeatedly) (Sen Dog) I be that, short-temper, hostile rhyme bringer Lifestyle gone wild, similar to rock singers Check me on the big screen, livin' out my dreams Cypress, Assassins, SX, latin thug thing Fools think they get bad, I ain't really with that Flavour of the month, bro, (?) try to dispatch Always got the good badge, take it to the head Got me wasted like Jerry from the Grateful Dead Don't trip, get a grip, be strong and don't fake it Or else you get beat down, an' stripped butt-naked I just kick the lyric, straight from the spirit You can tell I got soul first time as you hear it (Chorus - Sen Dog and B-Real (repeat 2x)) Welcome to the show, all come inside You can hear proper sound when it's Amplified You wanna party with the best and say "fuck the rest" 'Cos we take away ya stress and never settle for less (B-Real) When you deal with the Hill, keep your mouth still If you rely on your skill then rely on your steel If you have no ideal, or any thoughts to feel What you sought was real, to give 'em slots to fill Busters stop to deal But I face them, quicker than takin' a box of pills Now you gots to chill Get cops and sheilds, steady, hark the (?) If they're lookin' for prey, ready to stalk and kill As I lock the wheel, don't you mock the drill 'Cos I'll cock my steel, make you drop and spill Got no mercy unless you talk to deal Quit talk and kneel, you won't top my will, bitch! (Chorus (repeat 2x)) Welcome to the show, all come inside You can hear proper sound when it's Amplified You wanna party with the best and say "fuck the rest" 'Cos we take away ya stress and never settle for less ("Say what?" scratched some more) (Sen Dog) Ain't no-body better, on that you can bet (CY-PRESS!) Wanna see a dope show? Put your money on my set Real emcees and real DJs Real South-siders from the heart of LA Now, back in the day we had big sucess And it's like that now and we won't settle for less You can beat the LB from the new latin lingo Nowadays you nothin', without a hit single Time to get loco, and put bodies in motion Hit the stage in a rage, and start up a commotion No I ain't jokin, see my mic smokin'? I slam it like the art and make sure it's broken (Chorus (repeat 2x)) Welcome to the show, all come inside You can hear proper sound when it's Amplified You wanna party with the best and say "fuck the rest" 'Cos we take away ya stress and never settle for less (scratching to fade) |
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| 7. |
| 4:10 |
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(B-Real)
I remember times I hustle, times I struggle Times I had to get over the everyday shuffle People tryin' to muffle my thoughts and all my dreams too People who I thought were down, and see true But I blame me too 'cos it's a Chronicle My life, I realise I'm responsible for obstacles In front of me, my own self to blame But I worked hard to receive the wealth and fame It's a worthless game, but if you're willing to play There's sharks in the water who are, willing to pay The price of your soul, but if you give it away You silly motherfuckers are all commited to stay It's a cold world, but you still want a part of it So then you'd better fuck around and learn the art of it Don't walk through life with your blinders on 'Cos you'll keep goin' crazy 'til your mind is gone (Chorus : B-Real (repeat 2x)) It Ain't Easy, but you got people tryin', to put you down, believe me I keep gainin' ground, It Ain't Easy How many times, must you decieve me? (Sen Dog) I been around for many days, of musical mainstays Cypress, is Worldwide and we like it that way You can't fade-ER, or compare TO The Original Pyscho-Baiter Got the next rhyme and we'll check you all later Can't nobody fuck with them Cypress Hill Raiders Heard it all before and I don't need no more Advice on the game and how to kick hardcore Played the game out here with the best Toured around the world and got big respect Now, what's (?) all with this year 2000's? We puttin the Smackdown and we ain't clownin' Not many have lasted Since we first blasted Up on the scene, singin' about the dream Recruitin' for our team, niggas know what I mean ?Damn?, you defy, when you live or die (Chorus (repeat 2x)) (B Real) Times I hated, times I waited Times I went by where I was drunk and faded They said I wouldn't make it, but where are those people now? Still hatin', creatin' all the evil now Your insecurties are showin', exposin' you You're trippin' on me and showin' emotions too Don't you spend your life full of envy, it's deadly Heed me, as I spit the venom believe me (Sen Dog) I keep my guard up, and always let you see my rage I get pissed, like a pitbull in a cage (barking) Not that many can deal with the fury Attack and ransack and kill in a hurry I kill and observe and go in an instant I bring the pain like the ?Rampark? Prison I kept it right for the brother to the ?Chullo? Something I bump when your gates in the (?) (Chorus: B-Real) It Ain't Easy, but you got people tryin', to put you down, believe me I keep gainin' ground, It Ain't Easy How many times, must you decieve me? It Ain't Easy, but you got people tryin', to put you down, believe me I keep gainin' ground, It Ain't Easy It Ain't Easy, yo, It Ain't Easy |
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| 8. |
| 4:07 |
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As I sit in my silver stack thinking about way back
Even before I started blazing the chronic sack I was a go wild unfocused troublesome kid Looking up to all the gangsters and the shit they did I was at unimpressionable age through a faze An unmentionable stage deranged full of rage Walking through life in a haze with dark clouds Hanging over my head being wicked and loud And sometimes those demons haunt me and taunt me Follow me pursue me confuse me they want me They come at me from all angles and dangles Memories in front of me, but I wont run away I put the gun away but sometimes my hand ditches But I don't want to get locked away cause I whack bitches I left those ways back in the old days So go away I don't got no time to throw away (Chorus) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out her so I can survive) I got my education on the streets And I learned how to spit rhymes out with or without beats To say whatever I went through or going through Tripping off people who acting like they been knowin you Learn how some of these record companies be holdin you Attaching an image in the end controllin you But we set out to set ourselves apart And let these people know just what they had from the start It's like Ghostface said we studied our art form We turned the mike on and spit a fucking dark storm People slept on me and doubted my skill level But I'm tenacious and I got a strong will level You been introduced to some of the real rebels Injected with venom from god to kill devils (Chorus) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out her so I can survive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out her so I can survive) I remember my days as youth Teenage gangsters with somethin to prove See man amuse and we creep and we strew Catch your ass slipping and dump on their crew Just -- having fun but you crazy kids Never thought about no prison beds Got gang-sters twenty-five and alive Never see the kids all fucking wild But that's the game and shit don't change Get respect for smoking brains You get a name and you build your rep You courting fools coming in your set Before you know we're having fun Slamming doping and packing gun Leaving mad traces and blasting their faces Got a hundred years for all my fucking cases (Chorus) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out here so I can survive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (we fight and we struggle out here so we can stay alive) Memories they haunt me (they haunt me) they follow me To the day I die (got to do what I got to do out here so we can survive) |
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| 9. |
| 4:26 |
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(Intro 4x)
Lalalala-lala-lalala (B-Real) I'll admit, I was a wild seed when I was a kid Slangin dope, poppin Shroomz and droppin lots of sin Psychodelic visions would ensue My view feelin the alter-states as they altered my fate But I ??? ???, all that distorted shit brought it up I came short and couldn't afford to store it up So I began to record it on audio The autobiography of Luis Mario Something that's unbelievable, inconceivable That half the shit I set out to do was achievable But alas, look at all the shit come to pass While we remained strong, others broke like glass Cos you lack style, and you need all the help brother Cos you're fragile, and it should say it on your cover: This side up, for the celebrity Who lacks intelligence, integrity, intensity Oh it's true, I got you in that angle like Kurt But don't go gettin your fuckin feelings hurt I spit many bars of heat, that burn like a furnace, I pour rhymes out like coffee spillin out your 'dermis (Chorus 2x) (Lalalala-lala-lalala) I got my 9mm at my waist, papa I got my shotgun in the escalade, papa If you feel groggy then jump and get sprayed, papa I don't wanna but you dug your own grave, papa (B-Real) You know me and you've grown with me And if I had a big enough pad, I'd take you all home with me I don't walk around with bodyguards, that's not me I'm hangin out with the people as my posse Used to have a lot of enemies with bad intentions Spreading gossip like disease, creating lots of tension People turn around when you become a star it seems But others hate you all cos you've fulfilled all your dreams They smile in your face and act like nothing's wrong When you turn your back, they hate, and play one of your songs Why don't you take your mask off, look me in the eye? You afraid I might blast-off and call you on your life? Take a deep one, and peep son Retribution comes around more than once, like a re-run You're a cheap one to kill, so steep son You're just another one who gets thrown in the quay, son Chorus: (B-Real) You know they smile in your face, You know they try to take space I let you punks know you ain't safe Cos you know you're just dead-weight But at the present day they gettin stalled out for some reason But not from me, because it's punk-hunt season Charged with high-treason, I'm easin the blow never The ????, that you're leasin, ain't gonna roll forever So think about that, is it worth the pain? When you flirt with pain, bitch you don't hurt your brain But you're thick-headed, numbskull and Rick said it: It was the moment you feared, when my venom spreaded (Chorus 2x) You know they smile in your face You know they try to take space I let you punks know you ain't safe Cos you know you're just dead-weight |
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| 10. |
| 3:31 |
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Y'all ready for this?
Ha! I don't think so! Yeah! Oh, listen to this! We gonna come at ya! [Redman] Cypress Hill! Yo yo yo - all my niggas say jump up, doc broke out the kennel A dog on four paws spittin' out the window Jump up! It aint no need to fight We may squeeze the pipe, you gonna bleed tonight I eat beans and rice, shit up a storm I walk the streets with shark fin off my arms Doctor Dolittle, lit off the bone My bracelet like I raised it off the farm Home-grown, thick, dirty My family feud dudes who pack 2's on survey Jersey and house Gun like an elephants snout Pull ya ambulance out Ya whole team'll get bombarded Ya on target, and bombed by some unsigned artists We leave ya hair cut like a blind barber Cut it, and gave you a line with fine markers I won't leave till the job is done Till the last prick nigga take ya wallet, RUN Doc with the shotty and we both catch a body with Cypress Hill Yeah! [Chorus: B-Real] We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high [Method Man] Yo, yo Blunt smokin', half a bottle of remi open You either holdin' or half-assed like Simmy Colan I leave ya chokin' on them lollipop rhymes ya callin' So hard, hell I crack the shell on ya candy coatin' If the shoes fit like Alan I be too thick Ever since you hit, yo my new chicks a new bitch Ya know if I can't eat, ya can't sleep Plus I'm in denial, I just can't admit defeat My mind is my glock, keep my third eye cocked Bust mines off tops, leave a rapper's nerves shocked Now who's hot and who's not I want them rocks and that money in ya two socks Meth the mister, if crime is an art, then let me paint a picture I'm gone, Kodak can't even frame the riddler Gold realin', Meth, doc, Cypress Hiller Whoever think they fuckin' with that, lets be realer [Chorus] [B-Real] Take the back seat and smash beats Smoke blunts through ya lungs and flips ya brain cells like athletes Run a track meet, the rhymes on ya rap sheet With the foot long crush bong, look your collapsing, sicko They go on the break-off, mental breakdown and shit you wouldn't think of I spread it to Reggie, chances are better but deadly You wanna be friendly on the get high Bentley You twisted up, burnt out within seconds Cos you couldn't hang with the John Blaze methods Bong hittin', doc spittin', shark bitten Star stricken, glock clickin', stop shittin' Inhale the smoke from the master's lungs You wanna roll up, yo I'm the fastest one (ha!) You wanna test with the sess, well first off That shit is funny like Kid Rock with his shirt off [Chorus X2] |
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| 11. |
| 6:42 |
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Lowrider"
(feat. Mellow Man Ace) (Mellow Man Ace: repeat 2X) Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der.. (Intro: B-Real + (Mellow Man Ace)) Aww, comin through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby Got that junk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three (low-ri-der) So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight (B-Real) Now when people are done, bumpin they head to this You wonder why you wanted anything instead of this We been makin you bounce, for many years already Rock steady and cut, many niggaz to confetti But I just want to blaze it up; whether it's the mic or a spliff Yes my gift is to amaze you all Thought I couldn't come for ten my friend, but guess what? I slay niggaz and still savin my best nut (low-ri-der) But you better cover your eyes, cause you never know when I spit it out and start some flowin I drop rhymes that grow like trees you're smokin Ear drums feel like lungs, your brain's chokin Just let it soak in, seep in, creep in I'm keepin, all you motherfuckers in the deep end (low-ri-der) You wanna trip? Then I got luggage I stuff you in and send you off, cause you ain't rugged (Chorus + (Mellow Man Ace)) Aww, comin through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby Got that junk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street (low-ri-der) We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three So pop yo' collar, give a holla, throw the dubs in the air (low-ri-der) We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight (B-Real & Sen Dog) Cause, we're Cypress Hill, come on and ride with us Just get inside, we bouncin dippin, chop it up real tough Lean to the side, pimp yo' hat, tilt yo' seat on back Don't front on me, baby boy, and break bread with the sack (low-ri-der) (Sen Dog) I be the vato with the fine hoodrat in the ranfla Always roll deep on the streets like the mafia Pleito, just might come back and haunt ya Flossin too much, no vato's gonna want ya Not right here homes, we're past all of that Makin that feria, spittin that raps Ya me conoces, I'm down for my calle Cypress Ave, y a pudo les madre (low-ri-der) Ya tu sabes, we don't play that shit Any pendejo's gettin hit up quick Whassup ese? What hood you claim? Now throw it up and down like it ain't no thang (low-ri-der) Hands in the air with the pinky rings Soul Assassins, runnin everything To all you vatos, make sure you check this In every barrio, I'm well respected (low-ri-der) (Chorus) (Mellow Man Ace: repeat 4X to fade) Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der.. |
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| 12. |
| 3:24 |
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B-Real
I slay punks who don't know their own identity You spit my name and use it like an obscenity You got more skulls in your closet than a Kennedy You on my nuts so you better hold tenderly I can tell you what's crackin' and done get splitten You corrosin' on the floor, shaken and snake bitten You in a cold sweat like James of the names you knew Don't mean shit to me and you ain't got a clue of what's about to happen - interaction Two worlds collide - one survives the reaction Hold tight, keep yourself together cause we're about to storm you like shitty weather (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) (B-Real) I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe (Sen Dog) Set yourself up for catastrophe and that's the only way that is has to be The whole damn world is mad at me But I don't give a damn, I'm just glad to be All pain and the fame a society, actuality, it's a formality How can I say: "You ain't shit to me" Without you takin' it personally Sen Dog Ten, proper years of bringin' funk I, still count mine, it's hella gettin' over the hump I got the loads on the skull, I got my hand on the pump Still got the boss to go nutty on you punks (yeah!) I don't wanna be the King of the Sing Just a Soul Assassin for the Cypress Team I rhyme and sing and make bitches scream They love that old South Side gangsta lean Call the Psycobeta, I guess you're crackin' Turn into Mad Dog when I start rappin' Look at hostile - ah, damn wild Shake you up in a hurry from the voodoo child Don't get caught up hangin' on the mortar Hold on and I'll turn y'all punks all wild (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) (B-Real) I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe (Sen Dog) Set yourself up for catastrophe and that's the only way that is has to be The whole damn world is mad at me But I don't give a damn, I'm just glad to be All pain and the fame a society, actuality, it's a formality How can I say: "You ain't shit to me" Without you takin' it personally 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, come on! B-Real I'm tired of whack rappers and fame seekers Like you know the deal to be in my same sneakers I don't mind exposin' you hollow bitches I got the medicine over the swallow bitches You play roles like an actor but get no oscar Gun spray, gunned away, cut from the roster You're just an imposter, you lost your composure Respect your exposure to bring you to your closure But you're in denial and still remain vile In a place within last style and senseless wild I take you down the long trail you failed to keep up That's when you get introduced to the street sweeper (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) (B-Real) I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself up for catastrophe I can see what you see what you asked for it has to be You set yourself UP FOR CATASTROPHE!!! (Sen Dog) Set yourself up for catastrophe and that's the only way that is has to be The whole damn world is mad at me But I don't give a damn, I'm just glad to be All pain and the fame a society, actuality, it's a formality How can I say: "You ain't shit to me" WITHOUT YOU TAKIN' IT PERSONALLY... |
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| 13. |
| 4:42 |
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(Bobo)
Once again We're back It's the big bad Cypress Hill You know what time it is (Beat fades in) (5x) Whoop Legalize it, Cypress Hill will advertise it Legalize it, (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) Cypress Hill advertise it advertise it, advertise it (Chorus: B Real and Sen Dog) Once Upon, (B-Real singing) Bugaboo L.I.F.E (Now Here it is ) Why, Why, Why (Bo Bo Bo Bo) Cypress is still here We're of those glad MCees Still Puffin Weed, Weed Why Diddely Why Why, Why, Why (B Real) Never fucked like this But I smoke blunts like this People ask: Why you pull stunts like this? Cuz I believe in doing what I got' a A lot' a people don't understand nada The Mic burns You was at It turn's to a slaughter You wanna think about chilling the fuck out, You all gonna Top Allah, Pop collar, Niggas, Latin Thungs All my family love barillas Beginners get pushed to back of the pack Invented and lend out, without not a tech You're on the top of the game But you work on a name till one day To put us in the walk of fame Don't call a name to recall the fame Eventually Dru is in the Hall of Fame You know what the deal is, You know what the heal is, You know who the Real is, You know what my skill is, (Chorus: B Real and Sen Dog) (Humming, Sen Dog: Sighing) (Sen Dog) I get mental This ain't no pad and a pencil chrome microphone, My only utincel Attack the track, like I got nothing to lose (That's right) I test myself, just to shut up and proove That the C-Y-P-R-E-S-S Got you funky, while I'm real deaf Put it to the test, and you will confess Soul Assassins is the best Check it homeboy, got to spot cracking (crackin) Six LP, from that Thugged-out Latin Turn the heat up, and keep it hot Always give ya mo', and then thank We got to freak the Hip Hop and the hot ride I'm on to make shows and can't hide Had first 'self titled', became an Idol *Spanish* in a Sub town barrio (Chorus: B Real and Sen Dog) (Sen Dog) Now Here it is Bo Bo Bo Bo |
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| 14. |
| 4:28 |
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(Kurupt)
Yeah Bitch, Dogpound and Cypress You Fuckers what you think about that B wizzle You know it, my chizzle& & Yeah with Muggs What it is &. Sen Dog! Get it real Gangsta! (B-Real) Bitch you try to spit on, you best get on Before things start to happen and I lose my calm, Cuz I just wanna puff weed and tip my cup (Yeah), Smoking on a Kush Weed, not ginving a Fuck, Rhyme Flow, Mack-o-hoes,?& Stack dough! But niggas wanna do Shit to make me reexoed, so& Insane in the Brain, let it rain on a bitch nigga Haning on my chain cuz you runnin into &. a rich nigga You can t feel me without the br..ill I m like that Shit that will catch you without the yale ??? Make busters pay & cuz they see too much *But really all they want was just me and Kurupt* (Chorus 4x) Here is something you can t understand How I Could just kill a Man (Kurupt) Penetentionaries stop for centuries They got to be real like me and B-Real See you shot, you rhyme but we kill Concentrate unload an on Steal Tippin ya head up Nigga, yes we will Riding on nigga that when the ma... spilled Pistols launch up and travel like & animals& and & What you gonna get, nigga? &. I seek the hot girls, so struck by Get em up drive by, Watch em gone drive by Yeah paranoid, we drive by till we die You Nigga s really don t know Shit, I treat niggas like hoes with they silly long g* (Hook 2x Kurupt) Here is something that they just don t get I don t Give A Fuck Nigga, nigga I don t give a Shit Here is something that they just know Back/Crack to Fo, dipping through the back door (B-Real) This is a dope blast Cos I ain t finished, We re like a pack of *panorama* In Your *Soul Assessino* Attackin you, till there is nothing left for your mama East side niggas, Do you wanna die, Hitting Switches in the Cadillac Getting thru real high, coz we live this & this B really fast&& (Sen Dog) I m ignoring all this dumb shit Cuz these vatos can t hang With the maddog I m here with that thang Dump on that ass if you fuck with my business Stop Pop, and drop all of you Withness Glock slug and unlock if you listen Buck shots, hardstop up his snitches That s what you get when you fuck with the real Hardcore Nigga said: Pack That Steel (Chorus 4x) Here is something you can t understand How I Could just kill a Man (Kurupt) (B-Real) (Hook 2x) Here is something, that I think you just can t understand And you wonder why and how it is I could just kill a man You see, in these streets I pack my heat cuz should it be for real And if you think you wanna come and test me then come there with a steel |
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