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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
(Verse 1: Sen-Dog)
You better hope I'm chained up, shackled with a yard I'll snatch you by the neck, bide you like a tech Wreck fools when I disconnect, make you sweat Shit your pants, get in yuor step on my advance Catch a glance of the legendary brother who carries Your body and buries two more lyrics in styles varied Fool what? You ain't got nothin' to say I been backin' up east side LA, all day Blowin' up the best techs, the best flex Havin' the best sex, fuckin' in Wessex The hardcore shit, I know you like it raw 'Cause ain't no other Dog breakin' the last straw (Chorus (2x): B-Real) You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga 'Cause you rollin' with the Hill and what counts is uh, Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us? Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles (Verse 2: Sen-Dog) I don't bark, I just bite, mangle and maim niggas up Check your strap, they mangle us and pick us up Fool, now you tremblin', I give you three seconds To break out before you resemblin' a dead man A hole through your headband My gat's in my right hand, my plug's in my left hand, punk Cypress Hill worldwide, you just a local Don't anger me, or you can hear it in my vocal You don't want that strap on my hip To deal out, the repercussions dug a fat lip I'm buckin' at the room soon to the boom Fuckin' with your head like the 'shroom you consume (Chorus (2x): B-Real) You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga 'Cause you rollin' with the Hill and what counts is uh, Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us? Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles (Verse 3) (BR) Bitches, you're all thick-eyed, a weak ride I take money-money, make dummies all night Use the mic, bruise the mic, we choos the mic When you sorry niggas go off and lose the mic (SD) We choose a life right, we roll with crew tight See the light at the end of a tunnel - a gat barrel Wettin' up your flyest apparel, a cane ray You forget me and I'll be back to refresh your fuckin' memory Remember me now, Cypress Hill soldier Up and down the boulevard, big money folder You bring descript sequence with no defense The whole defense hittin' the bones while you sleepin' (Chorus (2x): B-Real) You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga 'Cause you rollin' with the Hill and what counts is uh, Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us? Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles |
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2:45 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
(Verse 1: Sen-Dog)
You better hope I'm chained up, shackled with a yard I'll snatch you by the neck, bide you like a tech Wreck fools when I disconnect, make you sweat Shit your pants, get in yuor step on my advance Catch a glance of the legendary brother who carries Your body and buries two more lyrics in styles varied Fool what? You ain't got nothin' to say I been backin' up east side LA, all day Blowin' up the best techs, the best flex Havin' the best sex, fuckin' in Wessex The hardcore shit, I know you like it raw 'Cause ain't no other Dog breakin' the last straw (Chorus (2x): B-Real) You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga 'Cause you rollin' with the Hill and what counts is uh, Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us? Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles (Verse 2: Sen-Dog) I don't bark, I just bite, mangle and maim niggas up Check your strap, they mangle us and pick us up Fool, now you tremblin', I give you three seconds To break out before you resemblin' a dead man A hole through your headband My gat's in my right hand, my plug's in my left hand, punk Cypress Hill worldwide, you just a local Don't anger me, or you can hear it in my vocal You don't want that strap on my hip To deal out, the repercussions dug a fat lip I'm buckin' at the room soon to the boom Fuckin' with your head like the 'shroom you consume (Chorus (2x): B-Real) You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga 'Cause you rollin' with the Hill and what counts is uh, Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us? Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles (Verse 3) (BR) Bitches, you're all thick-eyed, a weak ride I take money-money, make dummies all night Use the mic, bruise the mic, we choos the mic When you sorry niggas go off and lose the mic (SD) We choose a life right, we roll with crew tight See the light at the end of a tunnel - a gat barrel Wettin' up your flyest apparel, a cane ray You forget me and I'll be back to refresh your fuckin' memory Remember me now, Cypress Hill soldier Up and down the boulevard, big money folder You bring descript sequence with no defense The whole defense hittin' the bones while you sleepin' (Chorus (2x): B-Real) You better bounce, nigga, smoke an ounce, nigga 'Cause you rollin' with the Hill and what counts is uh, Can you hang with us? You wanna bang with us? Cypress Hill, worldwide, Los Angeles |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Unreleased & Revamped [ep] (1996)
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down (B-Real) Livin on phat pockets on flat wit tha gat Rollin around nine deuce Cadillac Still got my homies to watch my back And they'll smoke ya ass if ya wanna come chat That's why some pigs an tha kids come sweatin They follow a hollow point shells 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 gat busts my grip surrounded I'm about ta get rushed I brushed wit death How many shells stuffed in my closet (???) (Chorus) (B-Real) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready) Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down (B-Real) 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 y'all Better stand back niggaz bout ta fall I'm comin out blastin like Yosemite Sam Get tha cheese an tha bread for tha ham (Chorus) (B-Real) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down) When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready) Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down Goin down, goin down |
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| from This Is The End: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (디스 이즈 디 엔드) [ost] (2013) | |||||
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Let's go [B-Real] I met her a club, her friend liked me but she didn't She noticed a lot of girls giving up their phone digits She didn't wanna be one of those hoes In clothes exploiting her body from head to toes She had glossy lips she was swaying her hips On the dance floor and every nigga's flashing her grip Trying to impress her in vain she gave no play Niggaz hit her up for numbers and she said no way I thought to myself let it go and roll on, B But like Smokey said she really had a hold on me I couldn't stop staring I started to fantasize with her Voices in my head said she's tantalizing ya Even if I moved to the other side of the party I had pictures in my head of her moving that body I was beside myself with hunger pain So I slowly walked over and I asked her name [Chorus: repeat 2X] What's your name, what's your number? I'd like to get to know you Can we have a conversation? The night is young, girl give me a chance! [B-Real] She gave a smile but I got no answer though I took a while before she gave a chance she's acting cold I offered her a drink she turned me down blat She said if you want my name you gotta do better than that I said OK, now your shit don't stink I'ma walk away only tried to buy you a drink As I began to walk away she said I'm sorry for real But every guy in the club tried slipping me pills I don't trust guys each and every one will lie to you I said I understand but it's not what I try to do I wasn't even gonna come to your table But if I didn't I knew that I'd regret it later I go after what I want but I got class For me no need to slip a pill if I want ass She gave me a funny look I couldn't tell what it meant She let her guard down and on our conversation went [Chorus] [B-Real] She said I want a man with a plan and ambition Not an immature nigga on a "pussy-hit mission" I'm too good for that I have so much to offer Got a good job working at my mom and dad's law firm You got goals, that's what she asked Yeah I wanna fill my home with platinum plaques It takes hard work but you know it's coming after She said 'oh my God you must be a famous rapper!' I do all right but I'm never satisfied I'm told when you still love what you do it never gets old I strive for more but that's enough about me Why don't we skip out the club and take a walk on the street We slipped out of the club with no worries Seems she wanted to get out in a hurry We hung all night till we lost our friends Till they caught us bangin in the back of a Benz [Chorus] - 2X |
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3:50 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Let's go [B-Real] I met her a club, her friend liked me but she didn't She noticed a lot of girls giving up their phone digits She didn't wanna be one of those hoes In clothes exploiting her body from head to toes She had glossy lips she was swaying her hips On the dance floor and every nigga's flashing her grip Trying to impress her in vain she gave no play Niggaz hit her up for numbers and she said no way I thought to myself let it go and roll on, B But like Smokey said she really had a hold on me I couldn't stop staring I started to fantasize with her Voices in my head said she's tantalizing ya Even if I moved to the other side of the party I had pictures in my head of her moving that body I was beside myself with hunger pain So I slowly walked over and I asked her name [Chorus: repeat 2X] What's your name, what's your number? I'd like to get to know you Can we have a conversation? The night is young, girl give me a chance! [B-Real] She gave a smile but I got no answer though I took a while before she gave a chance she's acting cold I offered her a drink she turned me down blat She said if you want my name you gotta do better than that I said OK, now your shit don't stink I'ma walk away only tried to buy you a drink As I began to walk away she said I'm sorry for real But every guy in the club tried slipping me pills I don't trust guys each and every one will lie to you I said I understand but it's not what I try to do I wasn't even gonna come to your table But if I didn't I knew that I'd regret it later I go after what I want but I got class For me no need to slip a pill if I want ass She gave me a funny look I couldn't tell what it meant She let her guard down and on our conversation went [Chorus] [B-Real] She said I want a man with a plan and ambition Not an immature nigga on a "pussy-hit mission" I'm too good for that I have so much to offer Got a good job working at my mom and dad's law firm You got goals, that's what she asked Yeah I wanna fill my home with platinum plaques It takes hard work but you know it's coming after She said 'oh my God you must be a famous rapper!' I do all right but I'm never satisfied I'm told when you still love what you do it never gets old I strive for more but that's enough about me Why don't we skip out the club and take a walk on the street We slipped out of the club with no worries Seems she wanted to get out in a hurry We hung all night till we lost our friends Till they caught us bangin in the back of a Benz [Chorus] - 2X |
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3:11 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Unreleased & Revamped [ep] (1996)
B-Real:
Whatta you know? The nigga stole my dough So I reached in the closet for the 4-4 [Whatta you know?] Jus' hold on, just wait a minute It's gone, along with my big bad nickel-plated Whatta you know? The fucker took my phone I still can't believe that he robbed my home! Whatta you know? I think he got to the herb And the ferria, and the jewlery, and the Mausberg Whatta you know? I can't find my keys to the 6-5 All the way live on D's Whatta you know? I can't find my Rolex With the 21 diamonds, shinin' on flecks Whatta you know? When I find that mark-ass nigga, I'ma cut out his fuckin' heart! Sen-Dog: Whatta you know? I came up on this baller For the dollar and the weed sack, and his Impala! Whatta you think, when you can't trust your so-called homie Like me, and you thought that you know me? Whatta you feel, when you're lookin' in the closet And the gat's gone, and so is your cellular phone? Whatta you know? I took your loot and the jewels With the buddah and the laptop in the nickel-plated tool! Whatta you know? Now I run the show With the phat pockets and the nigga's fly gold Wahtta you think, when ya ass gets jacked By a homie who was supposed to have your back? B-Real: Whatta you know? I'm rollin' in my zone And I think I see the puto who rigged my home [Whatta you think?] I got the glock in the glove Should I dump on the man, leave him lying in the mud? Wahtta you know? He pulled out my 4-4 Now I got no choice, so I let it all flow [Whatta you know?] The motherfucker's all blastin' 4-5 equal, in time for some tractions [Whatta you know?] Slide action, no question Forty-five slug is bad for your complexion [Whatta you know?] The puto's cryin' like a bitch Now the puto's lyin' in a fuckin' ditch! B-Real (spoken): [Whatta you know?] You can't even trust your fuckin' best homeboy these days, homes. [Whatta you know?] You got to sleep with one nine fuckin' open ... [Whatta you know?] Payback's a motherfuckin' bitch! [Whatta you know?] That puto should've watched his fuckin' back. [Whatta you know?] (repeated till end) |
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3:50 |
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from Cypress Hill - What's Your Number? [single] (2004)
Let's go!
I met her at the club, her friend liked me but she didn't. She noticed a lot of girls giving up their phone digits. She didn't want to be one of those ho's whose clothes exploiting their body's from head to toes. She had glossy lips, she was swaying her hips on the dance floor and every ni-- flashing the grips trying to impress her in vain, she gave no play, tend to offer numbers and she said no way. I thought to myself let it go the girl on beat, but like Smoky said she really had a hold on me. I couldn't stop staring I started to fantasize with her. Voices in my head said she's tantalizing ya. Even if I moved to the other side of the party I had pictures in my head of her moving that body. I was beside myself with conquer pain so I slowly walked over and I asked her name Chorus 2x: What's your name? What's your number? I would like to get to know you, Can we have a conversation? The night is young, Girl Give me a chance She gave a smile but I got no answer though it took a while before she could gave a chance she sat too cool. I offered her a drink she turned me down flat she said "If you want my name you gotta do better than that." I said, "Okay, now your shit don't stink, I'ma walk away, only tried to buy you a drink." As I began to walk away she said "I'm sorry for reals, but every guy in the club tries slipping me pills, I don't trust that each and everyone would lie to you" I said "I understand but that's not what I tried to do, I wasn't even gonna go to your table but if I didn't, I knew that I'd regret it later. I go after what I want but I got class. For me no need to slip a pill if I want." She gave me a funny look, I couldn't tell what it meant. She let her guard down and on the conversation went Chorus 2x: What's your name? What's your number? I would like to get to know you, Can we have a conversation? The night is young, Girl Give me a chance Lets go! She said I want a man with the plan and ambition not an immature... on a... get mission. I'm too good but that I have so much to offer. Got a good job, working at my mom and dad's law firm. "You got goals?" that's what she asked, "Yeah, I want to fill my home with platinum plaques. It takes hard work but you know it's coming after." She said "Oh My God! You must be a famous rapper". "I do alright, but I'm never satisfied. I'm told 'when you still love what you do it never gets old'. I strive for more but that's enough about me. Why don't we skip out the club, take a walk on the street? We slipped outta the club with no worries, seemed she wanted to get out in a hurry. We hung all night, and we lost our friends...'til they caught us banging in the back of a Benz. Chorus 4x: What's your name? What's your number? I would like to get to know you, Can we have a conversation? The night is young, Girl Give me a chance Let's go! |
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3:49 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
frtgfbcghcghfvnfnfnhjgfvnvghvgfhjgvfhjfgvhg,fhl;fl;ghl;fghkl;fhlvnklvnmklvhkljnklghgkkkkkkkkkkkkgggkkkgkgklgflkmhlkfghgfvgdfhgghdfghxfhjcf.ghl;fhk;flmhl;fmhl;fmhl;gfmhl;fmthl;fmhl.tmhdl;tmh;ltmhl;mhl;tml;rmh;lmf/m;lrmhl;drgff,f,ffffffff,ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffgbgrtnhfghgf,.nkdl h,.fncklhnfklnflknh;kdlfnhkflgtbn fguigloklllllolo
,lbklbhjxfklbjngjklhjgggggjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjhhhhhhhhhhyhhhhhhhj jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj 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3:49 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
frtgfbcghcghfvnfnfnhjgfvnvghvgfhjgvfhjfgvhg,fhl;fl;ghl;fghkl;fhlvnklvnmklvhkljnklghgkkkkkkkkkkkkgggkkkgkgklgflkmhlkfghgfvgdfhgghdfghxfhjcf.ghl;fhk;flmhl;fmhl;fmhl;gfmhl;fmthl;fmhl.tmhdl;tmh;ltmhl;mhl;tml;rmh;lmf/m;lrmhl;drgff,f,ffffffff,ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffgbgrtnhfghgf,.nkdl h,.fncklhnfklnflknh;kdlfnhkflgtbn fguigloklllllolo
,lbklbhjxfklbjngjklhjgggggjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjhhhhhhhhhhyhhhhhhhj jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj 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3:12 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
[Inhale, exhale repeated throughout intro]
[Intro: B-Real] You know, there are times when, you run out of weed There's no one you can call But at last there is one person you can call - Weed Man [B-Real] I've had drop dates with no weed to smoke No roaches, no nothin' when I need to toke Damn, where can I find some shit to puff on damn I need the kye cause it's gettin' tough on me (me) Cause I'm a lumberjack and tree's get chopped up and packed up and sold to D Bolo's are free, did you hold one fee? Herchers for the herbics no waterin' the seeds Some of your friends desperately seek me cause sussin' this, losin' no THC The pigs always wanna PH me, my kush hits harder than some GHB But some of these swine wanna hit off mine I just sit back, recline, and never waste time I'm the lead man, you read man, you need man Call me and all hail- "The Weed Man" [Chorus: Sen Dog] (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), gettin' me HIGH!! (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), gettin' me HIGH!! [B-Real] You can always call me all day, all light Service with a smile, make you feel all right (yeah!) From college-heads, co-eds and dreadlocks lawyers, teachers, doctors buy my stock So many call on me for what I got So many try to compete to take my spot Caked out, how many dimes dropped? How many times I lost one of my plots? The competiton was to knock me out The D.E.A. want to lock me out Broke in my home tryin' to sock me out But the true blue stoners never locked me out I'm easy to find, call me whenever You need some green and I'll make you feel better I'm the lead man, you read man, you need man Call me and inhale - "The Weed Man" [Chorus: Sen Dog] (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), gettin' me HIGH!! [B-Real] I'm the most well-loved, bringin' the bud Stickin' the club up, everybody ridin' my nuts What? You say you want credit? You must be high There's no free rides on my supply Unless you're one of my friends you need no ends just sit back and wait for the joint to begin But if you know someone in need of this weed leaf You can take my number down and beep me I'll hook you up if you look me up Just don't give my number to a rookie huh! Then I'll cut you off and brush you off Never trust you and won't dicuss your loss I'm the lead man, you read man, you need man Call me and inhale - "The Weed Man" [Chorus: Sen Dog] (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), gettin' me HIGH!! (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), Weed Man, Weed Man (Inhale, exhale), gettin' me HIGH!! [Outro: B-Real] There it is motherfuckers, you run out of weed Call somebody like me and I'll hook you up No stems, no seeds and things that you don't need That's right! I'm the Weed Man Don't trip I got kush, for a high price hoe... |
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4:18 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
[Chorus: Sen Dog]
Eastside L.A. Cypress Hill all day Spark the lah We live this shit We latin-thug type Gat-blasters Weedsmokers Moneyholders, that's right [B-Real] Well it's the alleycat looking for the buddhasack On my side is my ese can't fuck with that Starting out venom but if you wanna bill though Come in peace and you can come on the Hill bro But if it ain't in peace bro turn it to a homicide Throw you in the trunk take a ride to the Eastside It's a suicide when you're fucking with the Hill Fool drop your weapon or I'm comming for the kill Duck from the gunshots that is sticking to ya Standing all alone shotgun goes boo-ya Watch it go through ya Ya smelling like manure Fools all bloody body chilling in the sewer Enemy's a viewer I'm sipping on caluha Sitting back chilling with my nigga SonDuhla Heading to the Eastside watch your back busta Ain't no hood for you here it's all about the hustlas [Chorus] [Sen Dog] Rhyme for my neighbourhoud banging out hits For ever backing up that Cypress Hill click To my man on the corner with the shotgunshell Singing sad songs for the ones that fell To me it's kind of funny watching all these dummies Straight turn tricks for the fame and the money Walk a little bold 'cause their record went gold Got him a new ride and up rid it their ho Need this looking raw before you come acting Flexing on some brothers that is twelve times platinum Cause I been there Done that Fool check the format Sweep you and that bullshit under the doormat Put it to your grill like I don't give a damn Sen Dog and the Hill still fucking up the program Yeah y'all, that big bad Cypress and perro up in that place What the fuck you wanna do now huh? [Chorus] [B-Real] Kicking that funky Cypress Hill shit Think I blast another give them something to deal with Cause I'm the ill one Oh the cap-peel one You comming round the Hill fucking son I gotta spill one Now I'm heading to the Eastside looking for revival Living on the Eastside fighting for survival Gotta be nifty with the Han Solo and trying to show yo Wittnesses cause people will use it to kill your show yo Off to the stone garden you go and stay there When I'm dead I'm bringing my music to play there For all the soldiers, moneyfolders, you're on my shoulders You can't hold us back I'm spitting out boulders Crushing every opponent in opposition I know you're wishing that I would bow to submission [Chorus] |
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4:18 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
[Chorus: Sen Dog]
Eastside L.A. Cypress Hill all day Spark the lah We live this shit We latin-thug type Gat-blasters Weedsmokers Moneyholders, that's right [B-Real] Well it's the alleycat looking for the buddhasack On my side is my ese can't fuck with that Starting out venom but if you wanna bill though Come in peace and you can come on the Hill bro But if it ain't in peace bro turn it to a homicide Throw you in the trunk take a ride to the Eastside It's a suicide when you're fucking with the Hill Fool drop your weapon or I'm comming for the kill Duck from the gunshots that is sticking to ya Standing all alone shotgun goes boo-ya Watch it go through ya Ya smelling like manure Fools all bloody body chilling in the sewer Enemy's a viewer I'm sipping on caluha Sitting back chilling with my nigga SonDuhla Heading to the Eastside watch your back busta Ain't no hood for you here it's all about the hustlas [Chorus] [Sen Dog] Rhyme for my neighbourhoud banging out hits For ever backing up that Cypress Hill click To my man on the corner with the shotgunshell Singing sad songs for the ones that fell To me it's kind of funny watching all these dummies Straight turn tricks for the fame and the money Walk a little bold 'cause their record went gold Got him a new ride and up rid it their ho Need this looking raw before you come acting Flexing on some brothers that is twelve times platinum Cause I been there Done that Fool check the format Sweep you and that bullshit under the doormat Put it to your grill like I don't give a damn Sen Dog and the Hill still fucking up the program Yeah y'all, that big bad Cypress and perro up in that place What the fuck you wanna do now huh? [Chorus] [B-Real] Kicking that funky Cypress Hill shit Think I blast another give them something to deal with Cause I'm the ill one Oh the cap-peel one You comming round the Hill fucking son I gotta spill one Now I'm heading to the Eastside looking for revival Living on the Eastside fighting for survival Gotta be nifty with the Han Solo and trying to show yo Wittnesses cause people will use it to kill your show yo Off to the stone garden you go and stay there When I'm dead I'm bringing my music to play there For all the soldiers, moneyfolders, you're on my shoulders You can't hold us back I'm spitting out boulders Crushing every opponent in opposition I know you're wishing that I would bow to submission [Chorus] |
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4:02 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
[B-Real]
You can't hide from the man with the master plan Huntin for your head "How I Could Just Kill a Man" Ayo, where you at baby keep your head low, damn Got you on the camcorder in the black minivan You crossed line, time for the light to blind You can run but I never be far behind You never know when it's gonna come, paranoid Cuz the mentality is seek and destroy Better look around before you come out your door Cuz shit catches up but you don't want no more Only time will provide the right sign for real You might die cuz you hesitate to find the steel HOOK 2X: You better never let me catch you alone! Bring it on, bring it on! Bring it on, bring it on! You might die in the Valley of Chrome! Keepin on, keepin on, keep, keep, keepin on! [Sen-Dog] Listen up mothefuckers I got shit on my mind The spotlight's on me and it's time to shine I smack any brat that be jumpin outta line I smoke any fool try to diss on my rhyme I get y'all, wearin no can't protect y'all Wash your brain and have you infiltrate the Same bunch of suckers that be tryin to hate me Wanna take me out so they can try and replace me Fuck what ya heard, have ya seen lately The size of my clan is improving greatly No one will hold 'em back, bringin the big heater Watch a nigga run scared, faster than a cheetah Speed of light, move faster than sound But I'm still on they back and I'm gaining much ground HOOK 2X [B-Real] No matter what you seen, we still smokin the green Represent for all the people still a part of the scheme Playa haters, imitaters wanna roll with the team But they fade away, hate away, all for the cream They wanna instigate ?to get a losse forget my stake? Take advantage of the rilla, rob killa who scrapes Cuban motherfuckers who don't know who I am Better step aside suckers watch the heater expand Get outta hand, see the light, you and your clan Better scram outta here before you get slammed I stand strong, keepin on, when I'm rollin alone But you sorry bitches hideaway, place unknown HOOK 4X |
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4:02 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
[B-Real]
You can't hide from the man with the master plan Huntin for your head "How I Could Just Kill a Man" Ayo, where you at baby keep your head low, damn Got you on the camcorder in the black minivan You crossed line, time for the light to blind You can run but I never be far behind You never know when it's gonna come, paranoid Cuz the mentality is seek and destroy Better look around before you come out your door Cuz shit catches up but you don't want no more Only time will provide the right sign for real You might die cuz you hesitate to find the steel HOOK 2X: You better never let me catch you alone! Bring it on, bring it on! Bring it on, bring it on! You might die in the Valley of Chrome! Keepin on, keepin on, keep, keep, keepin on! [Sen-Dog] Listen up mothefuckers I got shit on my mind The spotlight's on me and it's time to shine I smack any brat that be jumpin outta line I smoke any fool try to diss on my rhyme I get y'all, wearin no can't protect y'all Wash your brain and have you infiltrate the Same bunch of suckers that be tryin to hate me Wanna take me out so they can try and replace me Fuck what ya heard, have ya seen lately The size of my clan is improving greatly No one will hold 'em back, bringin the big heater Watch a nigga run scared, faster than a cheetah Speed of light, move faster than sound But I'm still on they back and I'm gaining much ground HOOK 2X [B-Real] No matter what you seen, we still smokin the green Represent for all the people still a part of the scheme Playa haters, imitaters wanna roll with the team But they fade away, hate away, all for the cream They wanna instigate ?to get a losse forget my stake? Take advantage of the rilla, rob killa who scrapes Cuban motherfuckers who don't know who I am Better step aside suckers watch the heater expand Get outta hand, see the light, you and your clan Better scram outta here before you get slammed I stand strong, keepin on, when I'm rollin alone But you sorry bitches hideaway, place unknown HOOK 4X |
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3:40 |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (2010)
[feat. Daron Malakian]
[B-Real] I'm on a rampage Rippin' up the damn stage Wartime fate Dealer Some say renegade Part-time psycho Sippin' on lemonade Don't want trouble But i'll give it to you anyway Yes, i'm insane Put you in pain My mind has been trained To live in the fastlane Should I slow down Fuckin' speed up You better take a hit from my weed You need some [B-Real] Go hard go hard live hard die hard Rape one cap one fake one slap one Break one jack one save one get one Rise up rise up Take me higher [chorus] Got my hands on the wheel And i'm never lookin' back in my rearview mirror I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker Can't eat or sleep i need some medical attention i'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker [Sen Dog] Y'all wanna die But midnight stalker The graveyard walker And I don't like coppers The mic linebacker Elvis comin' at cha Middle of the pig Wanna pay off disaster Hide ya from cypress All around hypin' Songs like these keep bringing up my prices Dog in the food In bob marley hold out Balls to the wall on a date with a student [chorus] Roll hard go hard live hard die hard Break one cap one fake one slap one Break one jack one save one get one Rise up rise up Take me higher Got my hands on the wheel And i'm never lookin' back in my rearview mirror I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I don't care about them and if you see me comin' Actions are clear I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker They say i'm crazy lately I'm off the chains don't touch me baby I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker Can't eat or sleep i need some medical attention i'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker [B-Real] Is that so? Listen in your headphones Carvin' up your headstone Guessin you was dead wrong So up the heatwave Betta learn to behave These days we pass weed like a relay Sorta like a hand off Then you really handle it You puff up a hit Then you're lit like a candle We lead by example You know that we are showin' proof Gonna beat them whose are over you Beat down overdue Had to learn the hard way Homie started flippin' and We left them in the hallway Gonna puff all day Shut em down late night Motherfuckers wanna play What you got stage fright? [chorus] Got my hands on the wheel And i'm never lookin' back in the rearview mirror I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I don't care about them and if you see me comin' Actions are clear I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker They say i'm crazy lately I'm off the chains don't touch me baby I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker Can't eat or sleep i need some medical attention i'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker I'm a trouble seeker |
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from Cypress Hill - Lowrider [single] (2001)
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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5:00 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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4:59 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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3:55 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[B-Real]
How many times have we been thru this I can tell you that it's getting harder everytime I try to resist We go way back and you held me down Helped my feet moving on the ground No matter what situation ocasion You were amazing, you knew just what it took to keep dough up blazing (?) I kept you by me, but when we seperated I was thinkin foolishly Remember when your Ex-Boy tried to bug on me I told to bring it on and (?) on me He didn't like that but didn't want the fight Fuck 'im, he didn't know how to treat you right We go hand in hand they don't understand a man But you do and I really respect that, damn We been down so long but it's all good That's why I dedicate this song [Chorus: repeat 2X] Till Death Do Us Part I do [Verse Two: B-Real] Who would have thought it would last so long So many new ones think that they can't go wrong I know I make so many mistakes I know you felt neglected, you caught me outta line If you thought I didn't respect it - I heard ya But I never showed an emotion If I haven't ever said it, you got on my devotion When I fell hard you picked me up Maybe think about my life where I'm going a little tricky - Huh? I know there were time where you thought I would change But I'm the same motherfucking brother even in spite of the fame There might be some times we don't agree on some But don't never feel your thoughts don't mean nothing Some have tried to steal (?), I'm not one of those people Always tell it like it is, cuz the (?) but don't get mad When truth is leaving I'm only telling you cuz I got your back [Chorus] [Verse Threee: B-Real] You got my mind right and I don't know how you did it When I trip not too many who can put with it But you still there, still care so well - oh yeah Got so much love (?) I appreaciate what you're doing for me I had to open up my eyes so I can see the minutes we lost Whenever I was out on tour (?) we could make it up like never before You want all the little things that make it work it Why not, we can get it, we both deserve it It's hard but (?) good, it's ever so easy We have a bond that wont break, no mistake, believe me Till Death Do Us Part, like I said from the start You're the light that guides me thru when I'm in the dark They said we'd neverlast but we're still strong That's why I dedicate this song - C'mon [Chorus - 4X] [sound of someone blowing out a candle] I do I do [music fades] |
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3:55 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[B-Real]
How many times have we been thru this I can tell you that it's getting harder everytime I try to resist We go way back and you held me down Helped my feet moving on the ground No matter what situation ocasion You were amazing, you knew just what it took to keep dough up blazing (?) I kept you by me, but when we seperated I was thinkin foolishly Remember when your Ex-Boy tried to bug on me I told to bring it on and (?) on me He didn't like that but didn't want the fight Fuck 'im, he didn't know how to treat you right We go hand in hand they don't understand a man But you do and I really respect that, damn We been down so long but it's all good That's why I dedicate this song [Chorus: repeat 2X] Till Death Do Us Part I do [Verse Two: B-Real] Who would have thought it would last so long So many new ones think that they can't go wrong I know I make so many mistakes I know you felt neglected, you caught me outta line If you thought I didn't respect it - I heard ya But I never showed an emotion If I haven't ever said it, you got on my devotion When I fell hard you picked me up Maybe think about my life where I'm going a little tricky - Huh? I know there were time where you thought I would change But I'm the same motherfucking brother even in spite of the fame There might be some times we don't agree on some But don't never feel your thoughts don't mean nothing Some have tried to steal (?), I'm not one of those people Always tell it like it is, cuz the (?) but don't get mad When truth is leaving I'm only telling you cuz I got your back [Chorus] [Verse Threee: B-Real] You got my mind right and I don't know how you did it When I trip not too many who can put with it But you still there, still care so well - oh yeah Got so much love (?) I appreaciate what you're doing for me I had to open up my eyes so I can see the minutes we lost Whenever I was out on tour (?) we could make it up like never before You want all the little things that make it work it Why not, we can get it, we both deserve it It's hard but (?) good, it's ever so easy We have a bond that wont break, no mistake, believe me Till Death Do Us Part, like I said from the start You're the light that guides me thru when I'm in the dark They said we'd neverlast but we're still strong That's why I dedicate this song - C'mon [Chorus - 4X] [sound of someone blowing out a candle] I do I do [music fades] |
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3:30 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
My game’s so strong
I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come I’ve been in the game for a long time yes we’re battle tested With the time and the emotion and the money invested And everything hard no one else’s game is tighter Check the network I’ve been your fuckin’ service provider I brought you thug shit Taught you drug shit got you bugged shit Tell me what we haven’t done We run you through the gambit son Leave you understandin’ what the street life is But you haters never understand so eat my dick You better keep your concentration if you’re ready to roll on me And good bitches if you wanna unload on me ‘Cause if you miss you won’t get that far I’m happy jumpin’ fences and runnin’ down the street like a track star I’m at the finish line it’s essential I’m so influential We’ll strip you off your street credential Game recognize game read all about it You think you blew them in his spine look holmie I doubt it (for real) My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come They call me Dog holmie look it I don’t sell wolf tickets I got my fingers on the triggers and I’m ready to click it I never back down there’s nothing’ you could do to me nigga Who the fuck are you your face is really new to me nigga You wanna run with the Dog try payin’ your two songs Punk niggas bailin’ every time that I use chrome So many niggas ain’t none of ‘em last The bright lights in the woods be stunnin’ they ass I took a chance to advance in my life believe it It takes a stand to be a man busters can’t conceive it Fools tryin’ to be hard they only act the role You little sorry ass bitches I’ll smack you holmes Tryin’ to foam people make ‘em think you’re somethin’ you’re not I’m exposin’ all you bitches by provokin’ the dot No more talkin’ time for some action drama Ya been shot down bullets through your plastic armor My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
My game’s so strong
I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come I’ve been in the game for a long time yes we’re battle tested With the time and the emotion and the money invested And everything hard no one else’s game is tighter Check the network I’ve been your fuckin’ service provider I brought you thug shit Taught you drug shit got you bugged shit Tell me what we haven’t done We run you through the gambit son Leave you understandin’ what the street life is But you haters never understand so eat my dick You better keep your concentration if you’re ready to roll on me And good bitches if you wanna unload on me ‘Cause if you miss you won’t get that far I’m happy jumpin’ fences and runnin’ down the street like a track star I’m at the finish line it’s essential I’m so influential We’ll strip you off your street credential Game recognize game read all about it You think you blew them in his spine look holmie I doubt it (for real) My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come They call me Dog holmie look it I don’t sell wolf tickets I got my fingers on the triggers and I’m ready to click it I never back down there’s nothing’ you could do to me nigga Who the fuck are you your face is really new to me nigga You wanna run with the Dog try payin’ your two songs Punk niggas bailin’ every time that I use chrome So many niggas ain’t none of ‘em last The bright lights in the woods be stunnin’ they ass I took a chance to advance in my life believe it It takes a stand to be a man busters can’t conceive it Fools tryin’ to be hard they only act the role You little sorry ass bitches I’ll smack you holmes Tryin’ to foam people make ‘em think you’re somethin’ you’re not I’m exposin’ all you bitches by provokin’ the dot No more talkin’ time for some action drama Ya been shot down bullets through your plastic armor My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come My game’s so strong I can’t go wrong My dough’s so raw Baby why prolong Maybe we get high Maybe we get dumb Maybe we can party all night till death come |
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from Cypress Hill - Throw Your Set In The Air [single] (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill - Throw Your Set In The Air [single] (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill - Throw Your Set In The Air [single] (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill - Throw Your Set In The Air [single] (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill - Throw Your Set In The Air [single] (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill - Throw Your Set In The Air [single] (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
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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4:06 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Every Nigga out there wanna be down with the crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you-this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal, and do everything I told ya I can mold ya into a warrior Down for ya neighborhood Workin up to a G with the flava Criminal behavior, on ya mind When I got ya back ya know I got ya back each and every time Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care It's time to exit that busta nigga Get ya hands out ya pockets and your finga on the trigga Let one fly, we don't die, we multiply Throw yo set up in the sky I ????????? cause you can't fuck wit this Nigga when I got the glock ya betta duck quick Cause I ain't havin it If ya got ya gat ya betta start grabbin it I can handle it Soy numero, uno, mero mero You know I run wit Muggs and the perro Firin up that heater When I'm throwin up a set I got my nina millemeter La scandalous, killafornia, where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum I'm buckin on ya ass now ya know where I'm from Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw ya set in the air, and wave it around like ya just don't care Throw... Throw... Throw... Let me take ya to the dark side of the moon Tell mama that ya won't be comin home anytime soon Cause I got ya under my thumb Nigga what set ya claimin Betta be the same set I'm claimin Take a look around count this amount of soldiers When I'm chillin on the east side of town And it won't stop till I'm done Dum ditty dum ditty ditty dum dum Throw... Throw... Throw... |
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from Cypress Hill - Stash [ep, remix] (2002)
Intro: Sen Dog Yeah Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five Soul Assassins Cypress Hill joint. Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up... ...so get it on kid! Verse One: Erick Sermon Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin forte Quicker done than O.J., hey I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time? And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill Huh, I go on with my bad self I'm the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker Believe me not, I'm wicked like three sixes I'm doper than the Pete Rock remixes Never walk through the crowd sluggish I'm hardcore to the Bone, I'm Thuggish Ruggish The Green-Eyed, Bandit, I be ERRRICK SERRRMON I gets real determined And one for the trouble, and two for the bass I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace And if you don't know, y'all better recognize I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of weed Verse Two: B-Real Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hits Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate Fools get real, yo I'm representin the Hill With chips and clips and tons of blue steel So who wants to be the first nigga to die? Then try and test this, buddha blessed Gemini You get thrown sent home in a coffin Punk stuff don't make it back, very often I got Erick to take care of the Sermon Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin Bustin open the doors to the temple Takin you to the dark side of your mental Chorus: B-Real Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys Throw your hands in the air Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys Throw your hands in the air Chorus Verse Three: Redman I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy finger up on the pen, be like "He the bomb, dicky!" These off-keys MC's hawk me, they won't get off me So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt* Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shit Raw silk, cuz YOU DO IT TO MY MUSIC *Funk Doctor Spock* lock the hypest individual, to put criminal in diapers With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis in your back yard, word to God, Def Squad! With my nigga Keith in the place takin charge Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder You're deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard of Chorus Verse Four: MC Eiht Steppin to the park in the Hill you can't hang The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang Don't slip, the late night hype, is when I dip Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip Can't feel me, if I was crack you'd try to steal me Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me Keep your hands on your hood, you get got The Green-Eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock You wish you could hang, like I hang Dwells in the C-P-T, the hood thing G, the trigga finger, I'ma get you Hit you, the Tech 9, I'ma split you Ain't no poppin, no stoppin Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress Chorus Chorus Outro: Sen Dog Aight, for everybody All our peeps out on the corners All the alleyways For all our decesed Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets Nineteen ninety-five Soul Assassins in your mind |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Unreleased & Revamped [ep] (1996)
Yeah
Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five Soul Assassins Cypress Hill joint. Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up... ...so get it on kid! Verse One: Erick Sermon Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin forte Quicker done than O.J., hey I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time? And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill Huh, I go on with my bad self I'm the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker Believe me not, I'm wicked like three sixes I'm doper than the Pete Rock remixes Never walk through the crowd sluggish I'm hardcore to the Bone, I'm Thuggish Ruggish The Green-Eyed, Bandit, I be ERRRICK SERRRMON I gets real determined And one for the trouble, and two for the bass I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace And if you don't know, y'all better recognize I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of weed Verse Two: B-Real Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hits Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate Fools get real, yo I'm representin the Hill With chips and clips and tons of blue steel So who wants to be the first nigga to die? Then try and test this, buddha blessed Gemini You get thrown sent home in a coffin Punk stuff don't make it back, very often I got Erick to take care of the Sermon Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin Bustin open the doors to the temple Takin you to the dark side of your mental Chorus: B-Real Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys Throw your hands in the air Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys Throw your hands in the air Chorus Verse Three: Redman I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy finger up on the pen, be like "He the bomb, dicky!" These off-keys MC's hawk me, they won't get off me So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt* Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shit Raw silk, cuz YOU DO IT TO MY MUSIC *Funk Doctor Spock* lock the hypest individual, to put criminal in diapers With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis in your back yard, word to God, Def Squad! With my nigga Keith in the place takin charge Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder You're deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard of Chorus Verse Four: MC Eiht Steppin to the park in the Hill you can't hang The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang Don't slip, the late night hype, is when I dip Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip Can't feel me, if I was crack you'd try to steal me Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me Keep your hands on your hood, you get got The Green-Eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock You wish you could hang, like I hang Dwells in the C-P-T, the hood thing G, the trigga finger, I'ma get you Hit you, the Tech 9, I'ma split you Ain't no poppin, no stoppin Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress Chorus Chorus Outro: Sen Dog Aight, for everybody All our peeps out on the corners All the alleyways For all our decesed Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets Nineteen ninety-five Soul Assassins in your mind |
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from Cypress Hill - IV [Explicit Version] (1998)
Intro: B-Real and Sen Dog
B-R: Pa' la salud! (to your health!) SD: Pa' la salud! (to your health!) B-R: Primero yo... (me first...) (gulp) B-R: *grrrrrah!* B-R and SD: *mexican yells* SD: Cometelo! (eat it!) Verse One: B Smooth Word up, Tequila style... eat the worm Motherfucker (overlapping intro's end) Tequila spice, hot nice Milling rice, sipping on Jose Cuervo Down in Tiajuana, Mexico Thinking of the big score the night before Met the connect, who was impressively dressed In high fabrics With troops like Babe Ruth, up on the mezzanine Brandishing sub-machine guns, aye-yo It's all about the money, son Now that's the only reason We came south of the border, to complete this work order We gotta get it, no looking back, going all out for it Ready to attack, die in a minute flat for it As God is my witness, we got ditches for all you motherfuckin fake bitches It all boils down to the business Nothing personal, when niggaz acting like they helping you I fuckin blast you like Frank Castle, motherfucker! Chorus Tequila Sunrise, bloodshot eyes Realize we're all born to die So get the money nigga! (repeat 2x) Verse Two: B-Real I never knew money like this, in the palm of my hand 'Til I met the man with mad hook-up, and big plan Every where you look'a, he got everybody shook up Running for cover, the big bad WOOF, motherfucker He was like a father figure, show me the bigger picture Fuck slangin' on the corner, don't let the pigs get you Not like these fools who don't comprehend You end up doing a twenty-five bid in the pen You got that? Getting your cup, I took a swig The bitter taste of the 'mezcal', free worm shit Droppin' a lesson, he slapped my face, he said listen Pay attention brotha, you're my ace, but don't ever question Just do what I say, and you'll be rich And keep this in your mind: rats lay in a ditch with no spine Don't ever forget that golden rule in the game Cheers, they all know your name, it's like fame Why, women and money don't mix, like drinking an' driving Watch those conniving women and keep your eye out Always be aware of what's around you They wanna down you, and fuckin clown you Keep your shit in order the money won't stop Pretty soon you'll be on top Chorus Verse Three: B-Real Tequila Sunrise, with the bloodshot eyes My, my, my, how time flies and goes by surprise My mentor passed on and passed a warn to me, emergency For my enemies who wanna murder me Eat the worm, motherfucker, while you burn, motherfucker Better kill me, don't let me return, motherfucker Trust no man, cause I'll be back, you understand? With a plan, and my ace in hand, I want it all I recall the words from Jesus, you are the Juice Better go get it, don't let it get to your head, embed it Let these words stick, you better be ready to die Now take a fucking sip, caution it, but I never lie Chorus (music outro) |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (2010)
[feat. Everlast]
Im at a strange point of my life, my spirit ignites, Im destined for heights, I'm so solid with the quest of the life, Im under pressure but the time is right, For me to look inside of myself, the time passes by every night, Im searching for answers meanwhile my faith does surprise, And my neighbours are looking at me with hate in their eyes, Quad and tea, the streets filled with death and lies, Was set up to die but we plant seeds to rise, So when day comes pray so a miracle will keep it protected, Some of us gotta go but you know it you expect it, I gotta believe, in more than I see,in something better than this, whatever it is, I need a quate before my feeling is gone, Maybe my feeling is wrong But ill embrace it like a beautiful song, I feel something strong coming along, I cant explain what it is, but I'm relaxed till my mind is gone. Day destroys the night, Night divides the day, Reaper's hold is tight, Lord take my pain away. This feeling is hitting me hard, my soul is scarred, The feeling is saw like I'm getting a message from god, Believin in cause, no one believes in the laws, The reason the strong breaks - a soul is lost, Im searching for my soul in a myst of boldest insanity, I'd vanity my home is a warzone callamity, randomly, Tragedies happen I'm sick of this life, I'd give in a minute the Vicapri is from stripe, Gotta bond with the new brothers, leditucci and Cheddars survival of our mothers would be proud of us, When the day comes and we rise the high of our faith, And nothing can touch us, we dont the feel the mothers, Now the bees inside of my head, the life that I lead, Left me for dead and lost on the path that I tread, I blade so many to rest, from family to friends We pretend it doesnt happen, but when will it end? Day destroys the night, Night divides the day, Reaper's hold is tight, Lord take my pain away. I gotta new thought in my mind, in a matter of time, Ill be in a sublime state of the spiritual kind, My family is holding me high, theyre nervous inside, I can see in their eyes pride but the eyes dont lie, If the celebration continues Ill follow my heart, And my home is being infected from the poisonous dart. Its fallin apart, I dont wanna see its demise. So imma have to make a difference to remember I tried, My brother and sister smiling as I leave in the night, My mother kisses me on the cheek and my father is quiet, No words need to be said as my patters begun, cause Nothing can break the chain of a father and son, As I take a step in the street where my destiny lies, Tryin to focus, my nerves got my stomach in ties, Rollin in a club god damn these people are young, But needs to be done so Ill reach you over the hoe. Day destroys the night, Night divides the day, Reaper's hold is tight, Lord take my pain away. |
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4:31 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
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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4:31 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
I neva rapped on an R&B 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 indistry, Sellin' out for the fame, I just sit back and watch thes fools with their gimmiks, Go down in flames , in the big game, 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 articals, In them magizines 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 indistry that's take'n all ya dough, I neva 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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2:42 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[church bells gong]
[Verse One: B-Real] As a kid, I was known, son of a thug Snub-nosed .38 in the glove, who can relate with us? Never had an easy life, shit's way out Clips spray out, fools pay out or play out Any scenario, been there, done that Gone where some of y'all niggaz, couldn't come back Been through the hottest parts of hell Came back with a hard shell and, hard as nails I went through it all, do it all, screw it all Small you recall, the hard times as a juve-nile Often misunderstood Some joined the military, others just joined the hood Street corner combat, part of the dark streets Your heart beats pump when my slugs release And there ain't no tellin, don't be the one yellin These birds are deadly, they can shatter your melon [Chorus 2X: B-Real] When the street wars jump off, there's only one thing to do Grab your gat and squeeze one off This ain't the life of the soft ones who run off You got one shot to get you a knot [Verse Two: B-Real] At the crossroads, sick of holdin the badlands Where street wars, kick off quicker than Van Dam Mistakes of mad man, I remember the old ways The old days where fools clapped yo' {?} No quarter, you feel me? Life expectancy's just a little bit shorter G's gave the order, you carried 'em out Quick fast, you the last nigga I'm worried about Get that street lead, that was one step over the edge Much closer to death, every step I kept on Learnin about the dark paths, made a hard left Prayed to God death is swift and painless This life ain't for everyone, stay out my shoes You can't trade your fate, I hate to break the news The young won't respect the fences these days You a marked man if you get caught up in these ways [Chorus] [pause for spooky instrumental] [Chorus] |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[church bells gong]
[Verse One: B-Real] As a kid, I was known, son of a thug Snub-nosed .38 in the glove, who can relate with us? Never had an easy life, shit's way out Clips spray out, fools pay out or play out Any scenario, been there, done that Gone where some of y'all niggaz, couldn't come back Been through the hottest parts of hell Came back with a hard shell and, hard as nails I went through it all, do it all, screw it all Small you recall, the hard times as a juve-nile Often misunderstood Some joined the military, others just joined the hood Street corner combat, part of the dark streets Your heart beats pump when my slugs release And there ain't no tellin, don't be the one yellin These birds are deadly, they can shatter your melon [Chorus 2X: B-Real] When the street wars jump off, there's only one thing to do Grab your gat and squeeze one off This ain't the life of the soft ones who run off You got one shot to get you a knot [Verse Two: B-Real] At the crossroads, sick of holdin the badlands Where street wars, kick off quicker than Van Dam Mistakes of mad man, I remember the old ways The old days where fools clapped yo' {?} No quarter, you feel me? Life expectancy's just a little bit shorter G's gave the order, you carried 'em out Quick fast, you the last nigga I'm worried about Get that street lead, that was one step over the edge Much closer to death, every step I kept on Learnin about the dark paths, made a hard left Prayed to God death is swift and painless This life ain't for everyone, stay out my shoes You can't trade your fate, I hate to break the news The young won't respect the fences these days You a marked man if you get caught up in these ways [Chorus] [pause for spooky instrumental] [Chorus] |
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2:54 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
1 for trouble, 8 for the road
7 to get ready when I'm lettin' off all my load Funk, Buddha monk, in the trunk I got'cha, thumpin' so hard Up and down the boulevard I'm a natural born cap peela', strapped illa I'm the west coast settin' it on, no one's reala' Getcha fix of the uncut funk A small dose of the skunk weed, like it's suppose to be Move it up, just move it on out What'cha talkin'bout son I took the first shot, and it's all over now One nation under a groove Smoke a pound for the strict of it Everytime I make a move Smooth and togetha Raw like leatha Ain't goin' out like a punk, neva Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove It's the numba one money maker Money take a, few steps back I'm on a plane to Jamaica Puffin' a fat wada, talk shit For the fool I'm thinkin' about, I got the ruff shit Hard rock bone breaka Stoned Raider, in the Temple of Boom Assurt to assume Never be lettin' shit slide, no way Bitch niggas can hide But, I'll find they ass some day Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Wherever you are, put'cha muthafuckin' spliff in the air Some dogs, like you gotta pair When I kick to the metro Lone clip, be lookin' around Cause this shit ain't over with yet People can't understand my situation Now they cought up in the Soul Assasination Fool, just take cover, it's all over When I break ya off a chunk of this muthafucka Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove Check it out, 1,2, Cypress groove |
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2:54 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
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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| from DJ Cut Killer - Cut Killer Afro Jazz (2010) | |||||
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from Cypress Hill - IV [Explicit Version] (1998)
(feat. Barron Ricks)
Attendant: "That takes a fourteen shot clip You expecting an army?" Serpico: "No....just the division" [Barron Ricks] "Yeah, once again, (that's right) We about to attack this (Harlem Inc, Murder Inc) Yeah (Nicky Bond) Jimmy Cagney type shit, Nicky Santoro All my little short niggaz Joe Pesci and all that shit like this yo" Fillin out the cards to your eulogy Murder that ass, send my regards to your family, fuck it That's what niggaz get for fuckin with this maniac depressive nigga with aggresion, Smith and Wesson, in his possession Harlem got me like that, too many grimy, slimy niggaz on the take For short cake, we won't hesistate I miss inhabitants who politic in residence for presidents Across 110th, to 55th My covenant is protected, I'm doministic Survival principles my ethics, eastern philosophy's my method Good samaritans need paremedics, so what's your premise I hope you fuckin with Glocks and fo' fifths Wrath's Napolean, so teach your origin, slash wrists Shatter chins, and bust clips Check it, "here is somethin you can't understand" Steel Magnolia [B-Real] I got the steel magnum, braggin, leavin my toe tagged As I get raggamuffin, no bluffin, the body bagged Breaks all your bad habits, bad blood fanatics Clean up the magic, chrome startin up static Greed means that you die quick, click the vision Greed lies anmbition, five slugs for the mission Seven cause you go to the heaven or hell and dwell to meet your maker, but you met the shotgun shell Buckshots sting like bees, I smoke trees on the hilltops, clubshops and chilling overseas Take in the breeze, Mr. Freeze squeeze the trigger Killa G's got you week in the knees, to take it ea-sy! [Barron Ricks] Steel Magnolia Magnificent guns bust when 'Uzi Weighs a Ton' And yo' Glock spits, consecutive rounds shot from clips spells murder, sound synonymous to burner Leave niggaz ass up, gaspin for air, front seats of truck So who the fuck want me to press on they luck, bastard they son When gats start to hum and whole crowds begin to run Annihilation, destroyin all expectations Have relatives embrace your Harlem hopital, we all patient 5 foot 6, concealed steel, pop more grip With fixed sights that drifted to right, triggers light So relinquish son, I'm to the finish, and you acknowledge Couldn't pop a clutch or light a skyrocket, nigga stop it! Steel Magnolia [B-Real] Steel Magnolia, bury ya, six niggaz carry ya To your final rest area What you worried though, you ain't above that with a slug And your chest beats, blowin out your back, take it easy To your eulogy, open heart surgery Emergency, 911, come in a hurry From the Hills to the Polo realms, stackin the bills I put you under my lo-lo, hit my switch, then kill A bitch nigga steppin on my toes, fuck foes and hoes Get stuck in the ass like Pete Rose I suppose you wanna get wild and throw blows, you chose to get you nose your broke, in a thick cloud of smoke You're like a fat joint, I'm takin a toke, I'm like coke But you ain't smilin, feelin erratic, a fuckin addict To the dope shit, you better hope the shit stop Smooth, holdin the Glock, rockin the hot shit [Barron Ricks] Steel Magnolia Steel Magnolia Steel Magnolia Steel Magnolia |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
(Sen Dog)
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Once again, ha ha ha We back, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (B-Real) Now all these new nigas tryin to bust grips Keep tryin, I'm shittin all over yo tapes And yo CDs, you see these Niggas wit the weed leaves, you need these Hill biggas to bust trigga, sicka sicka The rhyme spitter spittin over the transmittor I got double platinum records on the wall While you got double cheeseburgers in yo toilet stall Cats wanna try me, you must be high Cause you havin fuckin +Illusions+, no lie, what you usin? Gimme some of that shit (shit), you fakin it Any little title you got, I'm takin it You can't have it, you didn't earn it Spit on yo name, shit on it, and burn it Suckas wanna floss and play the big boss What movie you livin in and how much did it cost? What role are you playin? I'm only sayin You're the record gettin played and I'm DJ'in Playin you, playin you, and playin you Decayin you, I'm tyin and breakin you (ah ha ha) (Chorus: B-Real (Sen Dog)) You're a weak ass hoe Punk slow yo role You're nothin but a clone With nothin to show You're a weak ass hoe Need a style of your own You're a weak ass hoe You're a weak ass hoe (Punk ass nigga) Leave me alone (Carbon copyin muthafucka) Punk nigga wit no flow (You ain't shit) You're a weak ass hoe (Fuck your little record, punk) You're a weak ass hoe (Eat a dick) (B-Real) Now look at her over there (damn), lookin all fine Shakin her ass, tellin me to grab from behind Please don't mind me, you'll find me Rollin the pine trees, women askin to sign these Well OK, but you're gonna get me in trouble Nice ones, I gotta be out on the double I'll be in that corner table wit my homies Gettin stoney tryin to avoid the phonies Huh, what you askin? Do I got plastic To buy you and yo friends drinks? Do I have assets? Do I got a big home? Do I live alone? Can I use yo cell phone?, feelin my bone She wanna ride me, she wanna tie me Around her tiny little finger and ride me blindly I don't think so, you stink, hoe The chain in yo brain is missin a link, hoe Please back up, I know you look good But that ain't enough to get half of my stuff, bitch (ah ha ha, that's right, you're a stank hoe!) (Chorus: B-Real (Sen Dog)) You're a stank ass hoe Tryin to get dough Leave me alone Cause you can't roll You're a stank ass hoe Nut ridin pro You're a stank ass hoe A stank ass hoe Leave me alone (Broke ass hoodrat) You can't roll (You can't roll) You're a stank ass hoe A stank ass hoe (Stank ass hoe) You're a stank ass hoe (Dick suckin tramp) (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha) (Bring it back homie, come on, huh) (B-Real) Here goes another example to begin it With a twist (yeah) like pussy I'm in it When I look at me, I look and see How long it took for you to throw the book at me Damn that shit hurts, but I put in work These niggas are like germs, over the counter they lurk And smirk when you fall down, but I calm down And put the anti-bacterial assault down Kill germs that wanna test, they want the best Comparin you to me is like a nigga to the cess Never settle for stress, or wack rappers I'm rockin the outta the West and rockin the East (?) (Chorus: B-Real (Sen Dog)) (Punk ass nigga) You're a bitch ass hoe Knockin on my door Leave me alone Cause you got no soul You're a bitch ass hoe (Trick ass hoe) Need to find a place to go You're a bitch ass hoe (Punk ass niggas) You're a bitch ass hoe Don't touch the microphone You're a bitch ass hoe (Eat a muthafuckin dick) You're a bitch ass hoe Leave me alone Got no place to go You're a bitch ass hoe (Trick ass hoe) (humming) |
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5:10 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
(Sen Dog)
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha Once again, ha ha ha We back, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (B-Real) Now all these new nigas tryin to bust grips Keep tryin, I'm shittin all over yo tapes And yo CDs, you see these Niggas wit the weed leaves, you need these Hill biggas to bust trigga, sicka sicka The rhyme spitter spittin over the transmittor I got double platinum records on the wall While you got double cheeseburgers in yo toilet stall Cats wanna try me, you must be high Cause you havin fuckin +Illusions+, no lie, what you usin? Gimme some of that shit (shit), you fakin it Any little title you got, I'm takin it You can't have it, you didn't earn it Spit on yo name, shit on it, and burn it Suckas wanna floss and play the big boss What movie you livin in and how much did it cost? What role are you playin? I'm only sayin You're the record gettin played and I'm DJ'in Playin you, playin you, and playin you Decayin you, I'm tyin and breakin you (ah ha ha) (Chorus: B-Real (Sen Dog)) You're a weak ass hoe Punk slow yo role You're nothin but a clone With nothin to show You're a weak ass hoe Need a style of your own You're a weak ass hoe You're a weak ass hoe (Punk ass nigga) Leave me alone (Carbon copyin muthafucka) Punk nigga wit no flow (You ain't shit) You're a weak ass hoe (Fuck your little record, punk) You're a weak ass hoe (Eat a dick) (B-Real) Now look at her over there (damn), lookin all fine Shakin her ass, tellin me to grab from behind Please don't mind me, you'll find me Rollin the pine trees, women askin to sign these Well OK, but you're gonna get me in trouble Nice ones, I gotta be out on the double I'll be in that corner table wit my homies Gettin stoney tryin to avoid the phonies Huh, what you askin? Do I got plastic To buy you and yo friends drinks? Do I have assets? Do I got a big home? Do I live alone? Can I use yo cell phone?, feelin my bone She wanna ride me, she wanna tie me Around her tiny little finger and ride me blindly I don't think so, you stink, hoe The chain in yo brain is missin a link, hoe Please back up, I know you look good But that ain't enough to get half of my stuff, bitch (ah ha ha, that's right, you're a stank hoe!) (Chorus: B-Real (Sen Dog)) You're a stank ass hoe Tryin to get dough Leave me alone Cause you can't roll You're a stank ass hoe Nut ridin pro You're a stank ass hoe A stank ass hoe Leave me alone (Broke ass hoodrat) You can't roll (You can't roll) You're a stank ass hoe A stank ass hoe (Stank ass hoe) You're a stank ass hoe (Dick suckin tramp) (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha) (Bring it back homie, come on, huh) (B-Real) Here goes another example to begin it With a twist (yeah) like pussy I'm in it When I look at me, I look and see How long it took for you to throw the book at me Damn that shit hurts, but I put in work These niggas are like germs, over the counter they lurk And smirk when you fall down, but I calm down And put the anti-bacterial assault down Kill germs that wanna test, they want the best Comparin you to me is like a nigga to the cess Never settle for stress, or wack rappers I'm rockin the outta the West and rockin the East (?) (Chorus: B-Real (Sen Dog)) (Punk ass nigga) You're a bitch ass hoe Knockin on my door Leave me alone Cause you got no soul You're a bitch ass hoe (Trick ass hoe) Need to find a place to go You're a bitch ass hoe (Punk ass niggas) You're a bitch ass hoe Don't touch the microphone You're a bitch ass hoe (Eat a muthafuckin dick) You're a bitch ass hoe Leave me alone Got no place to go You're a bitch ass hoe (Trick ass hoe) (humming) |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Once again the powers of the herb open up the mind,
Seek deep inside, tell me what you find, Come on... (B-Real): Who be the ones steppin' in the room, Everybody welcome to the temple of boom, Back, let me see ya fat indo sack, And get weeded, somebody, everybody need it, Mari-Juana, Mari-Juana, do ya wanna, Give me love when I put the flame on ya, Homie I'm the one with the shotgun,in the closet, Next to the fat bags full of chronic, Puto, don't ya be steppin', with ya hands open, Askin' me "can I get a hit of what t'cha smokein'", I aint got no kind of love for a brother, Who comes to the party, with no bud, I be smokinest, indo-blazin', funk buddah, Everybody, wanted it, now they talk about the hooter, Up until the summer of '91, Wasn't no mutha fuckas talkin' 'bout smokein' blunts, From the west coast to the east coast, Everybody be braggin', But , I'm the one who be puffin' most, First it started with the nickel, then the dime, Then the Twenty, spendin' up all my money, Now, I roll with the nelco(?), With the pound in the pad smokein' up the indo, Just take a deep breath (Ahh), Hit it then pass it to the left, You can keep the mutha fuckin' stress, Smoke it up, just puff it up, (O yea), Light it up, then put your spliff up in the air, Do you wanna spark another owl? Do you wanna spark another owl? Everybody spark another owl. Everybody spark another owl. I wanna spark another owl. I wanna spark another owl. Do you wanna spark another owl? Do you wanna spark another owl? (Sen Dog)Yea, stroll the ways of the buddah mastas, brings me to the temple of boom, I see people everywhere startin' to understand the point, when I'm talking about the joint, talkin' 'bout that marijuana, talkin' 'bout the sense, talkin' 'bout the kind mota boca loa-loa maui,maui, lugers of work- ready, mexican greenba, cheeba, cheeba y'all, yesca, humble pound weed, the crypt, the choclate tide, the afgani, the michoacan, the indo, the skunka, the bad breath sense (cough). Hello everyone, I'm Kurt Loaded, we're here in hemp TV, with Cypress Hill in Amsterdam we're listening to there new album, I'm stoned, I'm outta here, Goodbye folks. |
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3:39 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Once again the powers of the herb open up the mind,
Seek deep inside, tell me what you find, Come on... 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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3:25 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
(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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3:26 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
(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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3:26 |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (2010)
"Breaking news story, just bringing you up to date..
..across the US, as the country's economy continues to plunge.. ..now some are so outraged they are doing something about it.. ..congress is proposing new taxes.. ..symbols remind you of the toll the ongoing wars are taking on our country.. CEOs..." [Chorus] Shut 'em down Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Yes, we shut em down [x2] [Sen Dog] Somethin' getting down from the motherfuckin' get go Hands around your neck and i'm refusing to let go I'm like a down south crooked ass police Gettin' me some of everything down to your show biz See they got me Straight goin' up G Going buck wild Swinging on the paparazzi We not done, this shit ain't over We're back with a nation of soldiers We ain't havin' it We takin' over kid Coming through with the cannabis potent shit I'm thinkin' oh no We rock the good show Hand over the mic like Billy Boddy in a fist show [Chorus] (Bailouts, Wall Street, Cold Wars, Politicians, Quiet Tax) Shut 'em down Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Yes, we shut em down [x2] [B-Real] Going down the cross roads Feeling kinda lost No way to make it forsaken and taken for a lost soul I don't want your sympathy I don't need your hand out Never had it planned out Just a cut your man out Wars on the newscast Caught it on a news flash Heard about a new tax What if i refuse that? I don't want your promises I don't need your bullshit I don't need you telling me the answers at the pulpit Setup for the meltdown Hunted by the hellhounds Spiders got you spellbound Get up if you fell down I don't hate your slick talk I don't seek your point of view I'm the fucking thorn your side that keeps annoying you [Chorus] (A Common Enemy, hypocrites, Crooked Cops, Drug Lords, Higher Tax) Shut 'em down Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Yes, we shut em down [x2] [Chorus] (War Criminals, Politicians, No Surrender, By any means) Shut 'em down Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Shut 'em down (Shut em down) Yes, we shut em down [x2] |
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3:02 |
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| from Cypress Hill, Rusko - Cypress X Rusko 01 [ep] (2012) | |||||
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3:07 |
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| from Cypress Hill, Rusko - Cypress X Rusko 01 [ep] (2012) | |||||
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3:43 |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (Feat. Tom Morello) [single] (2010)
Living in the big city
The American dream Is far roaming in the streets of greed Everywhere I turn Im on a mission for more But I aint selling my soul With the dope theres no girl Im on a one way box to the top Hitting the strip but got a sound that would rally the block Im in the fast lane and I wont stop You aint nothing but talk You Couldnt hang on the rope by ball This life that I live It aint for the weak Got my roddy gangster that came off the street Im trying to keep the peace but I gotta keep my pace Got these drunk police Want me all rappy And Im searching for the higher ground I want my head in the sky So high that I cant come down Leave your lies in every town across the nation Cause you can never stop to play Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Cause what goes up must come down So we gotta rise up to the Higher ground Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) How high can you get? Cruising in the drop chevy Got my foot on the floor Im hitting switches and my brim is heavy You wanna look inside And see whos crossing the brine Curiosity is killing you With stick in the prime I get high from the brim in the set Never gripping the square But all you haters couldnt hold my. Dont need a clip for my ? straight You should leave it alone And check your toe cause my line will spit This right heres as high as it gets Somebody likes it..the hell Cause you stepped on the sex But guess who will show you,you gotta pass the check Got my clock on deck and my custom vest streets You came,for me Im the best And you can keep the dress Cause Im smoke at the less Turn a step back Im tired of getting pushed Gotta rise up to the top(to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Gotta rise up to the top(to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Cause what goes up must come down So we gotta rise up to the Higher ground Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) How high can you get? I go psycho Crazy Michael Myers Except the stages on fire going higher Cause when I lean on a flyer Theres so much more to make the whole city rise This defines a man to get the whole world lifted Wall man trying to make a land with a mission Theres no way you can stand in this position You cant take the heat get the f*ck about the tension Go with the will to hustle,you see if we hit the floor youll never stop it you aint got the muscle Were going to world top,homeboy this is the show We gotta blow up the stage be out the doorSometimes we all nedd an escape So when we form our track Well get your mind while we get the stat I made a pack with a crew on the hill We continue to build with all the people who believe their bill Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Cause what goes up must come down So we gotta rise up to the Higher ground Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) How high can you get? |
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3:51 |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (2010)
Living in the big city
The American dream Is far roaming in the streets of greed Everywhere I turn Im on a mission for more But I aint selling my soul With the dope theres no girl Im on a one way box to the top Hitting the strip but got a sound that would rally the block Im in the fast lane and I wont stop You aint nothing but talk You Couldnt hang on the rope by ball This life that I live It aint for the weak Got my roddy gangster that came off the street Im trying to keep the peace but I gotta keep my pace Got these drunk police Want me all rappy And Im searching for the higher ground I want my head in the sky So high that I cant come down Leave your lies in every town across the nation Cause you can never stop to play Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Cause what goes up must come down So we gotta rise up to the Higher ground Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) How high can you get? Cruising in the drop chevy Got my foot on the floor Im hitting switches and my brim is heavy You wanna look inside And see whos crossing the brine Curiosity is killing you With stick in the prime I get high from the brim in the set Never gripping the square But all you haters couldnt hold my. Dont need a clip for my ? straight You should leave it alone And check your toe cause my line will spit This right heres as high as it gets Somebody likes it..the hell Cause you stepped on the sex But guess who will show you,you gotta pass the check Got my clock on deck and my custom vest streets You came,for me Im the best And you can keep the dress Cause Im smoke at the less Turn a step back Im tired of getting pushed Gotta rise up to the top(to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Gotta rise up to the top(to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Cause what goes up must come down So we gotta rise up to the Higher ground Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) How high can you get? I go psycho Crazy Michael Myers Except the stages on fire going higher Cause when I lean on a flyer Theres so much more to make the whole city rise This defines a man to get the whole world lifted Wall man trying to make a land with a mission Theres no way you can stand in this position You cant take the heat get the f*ck about the tension Go with the will to hustle,you see if we hit the floor youll never stop it you aint got the muscle Were going to world top,homeboy this is the show We gotta blow up the stage be out the doorSometimes we all nedd an escape So when we form our track Well get your mind while we get the stat I made a pack with a crew on the hill We continue to build with all the people who believe their bill Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Gotta Rise up(to the top,to the top) Cant stop(How high can you get?) Cause what goes up must come down So we gotta rise up to the Higher ground Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) Rise Up(Rise Up) How high can you get? |
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4:17 |
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from Cypress Hill - IV [Explicit Version] (1998)
(TV Reporter 1)
"We understand all of the officers in the Central Division have been ordered to wear their helmets and basically to get into riot gear" (TV Reporter 2) "OK, we have uh trouble breaking out here right now Tensions are building Uh, the police have just wrestled a couple of people to the ground" ("...Police in riot gear...") "The police are, uh, forming a long line now..." (B-Real) In the year of ninety-eight, you can't wait Niggaz been waitin on our release date I know how to pick em up, stick em up Everybody go crazy while I'm fuckin shit up Who's on the floor, while the beats break Hey ? feelin to catch a vibe, you buyin an e-ticket to the unknown, hilltop feelin a lot drop You gotta get the fuck out of the spot Hear no, speak no, see no, but we know Good reigns over evil, how it be though I'm doing it my way, like Carlito Taking over the whole scene, a bad dude, so Bring yourself off up the ground, start it up Break it up, shake it up. you better be wakin up Riot....Starter Riot....Starter Come on (Sen Dog) "Yeah...move it to the side Cypress Hill coming through once again Check this out, this is for ninety-eight, nine-nine Forever baby, come again now!" (B-Real) People like talkin, but can't walk a mile Puttin you down, but they can't bite a style I start the riot up, fire it up Watch the roof cave in, while I'm lightin the shit up You want some more, fanatical, rhyme animal Slammin your head, bangin the wall, it's all mechanical Hear no, speak no, see no, but we know Don't even try to breathe though, an amigo don't move unless you feelin the whole move Like a bomb, gonna blow, I'm killin the whole room Still no real souls, heal those through real shows Broken, how your grill goes, you feel those Then I pealed those off of the wall who got bombed Cypress Hill reignin supreme, we stand tall People never answer their call, they fall slow When the riot starts feelin the boom, you better roll Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Come on (Sen Dog) "Yo, get the fuck up out the stage We gonna tear the roof up off this motherfucker Yo, move the fuck out kid We gonna tear this shit up Hit that breakdown, homie!" (B-Real) Look at all the pigs they can't hold me down Riot gear on, they fiendin to get clowned Watch as I throw my weight, they hesitate while I'm circulatin the flow, movin through every state Stay calm, play on, be gone, the teflon No delay on the mission, I breathe calm Who's gonna be the thrilla when I'm gone Makin the scrilla, Manilla, the Don Juan Seek low, need no, info, the weed codes Don't even try to think though, I'm a kilo Dope shit, my position remains firm Fuckin your head up, take a sip, eat the worm Let it burn, up in your stomach, you never learn from it When the stoned of Soul comin to return Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Riot...Starter Come on (Sen Dog) "Yo, get the fuck out of the way or get hurt man You got to move motherfucker, you got to move You gotta make shit happen Yo, once again, this is Sen Dog All the way from the Soul Assassins Laboratory Somewhere, who the fuck knows where at, knahmsayin? Big shout out, all the Soul Assassins across the country Whereever you at, yo check this shit out We comin hard baby, we bringin it live We gonna burn that motherfucker down yo Tryin to raise the roof, we wanna fuck it up We wanna do whatever it is the fuck you call it As long you get out the fuckin way, let Cypress come through Woooorrrdd, yeah We gonna call this one...the Riot, Starter! We wanna see that shit, everybody say that shit Riot Starteeerrrrr! |
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3:31 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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3:45 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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1:46 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
"(Inhales) Break that shit off nigga"
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" 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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1:46 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Look at all these m.c's tryin to get dap,
But all they get; a peeled back dome cap. I'm not the one to be havin that shit, All the punk niggas better bow down and submit. Niggas don't know how to keep it real. Only a few niggas know the real deal. Fuck all the bullshit, cypress hill! Come's rainning on your brain, bringin the blood stain. Smeared on the side walk, one more dome. Of the preditor skull hanging in my home. The big game hunter, fuckin up shit . Get your ass back; while the hill's in the cut. Fool get in the circle lets see if your raw? Hardcore ass vato might hit the fuckin floor. Glock's, and sig's, and m-1 clips. For any busters who wanna flip. Fat s.a. ring shining in your eye. Soul of an assassin till i die. Red light visions in your dome piece, Nightmares goin through your head don't cease. Look at you now broke down, and done. No competition can ever get none. |
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4:27 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
(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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4:26 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
(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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4:27 |
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from Cypress Hill - Lowrider [single] (2002)
(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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3:25 |
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from Cypress Hill - IV [Explicit Version] (1998)
(MC Eiht)
Geeyeah, Soul Assassins two times, stick em! Geeyeah, Cypress Hill three times, come on! Geeyeah.. Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin Cross the seven seas eased, clockin much conversation Penetration, you know we gets busy, no hesitation Greenery, hand-picked, from my own plantation Feels the heat, under the som-brero to any amigo that's tryin to, stop the dineros Chills with, senoritas, like charro Get drunk off tequila lay low til tomorrow Follow, my flow, get the cash and go Call my homey B-Rizzy in Mexico City Loose lips sink ships, faker faces got guilt Didn't mean to call you late, I need a hideout til.. cool, homey, I'll bring some fuckin skunk The homey smuggle me across lines in a trunk Just like a bird I'm free, in a land with no fuckin extradition treaty, I'm out, geyeah "Shit is real on the motherfuckin Hill God" (2X) "With the crew from off the Hill" (B-Real) B-Really killin the Phillie now can you feel me from the Soul Assassin committee, the shitty niggaz never thrill me You silly bitches never respect, neglect money You funny or broke, think it's a joke, your nose is runny Got my main man, Mr. Rocho kickin the vocals from the Eastside, where it's loco sellin the poco From the two G's, breakin the leaves of cheese, makin the bacon You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin Evading the pigs, raiding my crib, I'm mad lib and I wanna live and I'm givin the message droppin the lesson Flippin shit, and I'm keepin em guessin they all stressin Hit the lullaby, no confession, we in session "Shit is real on the motherfuckin Hill God" (4X) "With the crew from off the Hill" (MC Eiht) We's beez the three amigos, skates with nickel plates under the seat and we goes East Coast/West Coast, anybody killer! Soul Assassins gets the cash and smash *vroom* Who spits the Glocks like uno and dos? Makin your body dissapear like a ghost One time's tryin to gaffle me, harassin me tryin to send me to the penetentiary (B-Real) In the nighttime, niggaz are creepin you fuckin sleepin And the beat, just keeps on seepin into the street While you peakin I'm meetin and greetin the people speakin and leadin the motherfuckers who's seekin to catch, ruckus Meaning you suckers no-luckers overdub us, nut hug us You love us, you can't stop, these mad audio hustlers "Shit is real on the motherfuckin Hill God" (5X) |
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3:21 |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (2010)
[feat. Evidence of Dilated Peoples]
(Put it in the air...) Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Then put in the air If you wanna get high Spark it up in a circle With the kush weed that would hurt you If you got the purple we can blaze it Either way, The high you scerch? You shoulda bought Then you know the rules Before you hit it once When you catch my blunt You know which way to pass it When it comes Pass the joint on the left hand side Don't ever pass it on the right Never ash it on my Nike If you sprinkle hash in it Just don't let it out your sight 'Cause if you take it outta sight, Well ya just beggin' for a fight Aight! Give me a lighter, So why you can't decide To ignite it? Puff Puff Pass homie! Don't just stand and try to hide it I smoke a bowl or a spliff And uplift my sprits Then I take a bong hit Hit it fuckin' hard And clear it Hit it with the left hand, Pass to the next man Still the fool is blessed, And his weed is from the west And you'll never get it done Your bitin', You can bet it on your life It's 4/20 every night Who wanna get high? Do you want to get high? (YEAH !....) Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side And then put it in the air If you wanna get high I'm Green Evidence On the podium, stands the minister I see weed from Cypress trees I just finished up I'm center stage high, Civic center stage dive Even summer,winter, spring, And fall, ain't the same My heads in the clouds Of smoke then I choke and laugh, Then toke on the left hand side No joke work Can touch these Los Angeles souls We twist herbs up The word's a dangerous flow (Go!) (Only on the left hand...) When I smoke I'm tilted to the side like a kick stand Roll up a rock And call me a middle man I'm sinkin' a riddle Like it was quicksand One *snort* clear out your nasal passage Wit the medicine of dristan VoilA?A? My mind at ease... The Police car (Whoop-Whoop) Wanna come find my trees Hashish from Iraq Will make my eyes chinese Tearing up the studio Just tryin' to find my keys (la, la, la, la, la...) It's like that ya'll Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side (la, la, la, la, la...) Pass the joint on the left hand side Only on the left hand side Pass the joint on the left hand side Then put it in the air If you wanna get high Do you want to get high? (YEAH !....) |
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2:47 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
(Fuck you motherfucker! Untie me from this chair man
You better untie me from this chair nigga You know who the fuck I am, I will have you killed nigga! You better untie me motherfucker, fuck y'all motherfuckers man! Do you know who the fuck I am?) [beat drowns out the voice as a Cypress Hill member speaks] Right [duct tape being unrolled] Sho' you right You want a cigarette nigga? [B-Real] You was a good kid, your parents musta loved you They got you out of trouble no matter how big the bubble They gave you everything, nah you never needed nothin We used to get high, 'member we was weeded cousin We used to go to clubs, blaze it up and act crazy What made you turn around, was it drugs or your lady? We had good times, committin hood crimes We drew lines but you never understood mine You don't go fuckin homies, just like my momma told me I held my hood up boldly, you were a fuckin phony I guess it manifested when I got the call early They said you bunkered down in the hood with ol' girly She had your back covered, but that didn't matter did it? I know you're livin, but you put your fuckin self in it Don't try to make a move, nigga don't go fuckin 'dere I know you're hurtin cause you're tied up to the fuckin chair You never loved your family, you robbed that mall gladly They tried to love you sadly, you let 'em down badly Just call me Death's angel, but we were never strangers You 'bout to get mangled, that's truer than Kurt Angle Now it's time to pay, any last words to say? I know your mind strays, son I think you need to pray Don't even need to tell you, you were a smart nigga Save your teardrops, yo don't even start nigga You shoulda thought of that long ago before you fucked me You dodged me long enough, homey now you been lucky But now it's pay the piper, no fuckin traps or snipers Just the gas and lighter, caught up in the web of spiders But now you get devoured, burnin in the flames you coward This is the very hour, I send your family flowers I'm sure they all will miss you, but they will be good without you They'll reminisce and light a candle as they talk about you [Cypress Hill] Relax... no no it's okay Let me give you a light [muffled: "Oh SHIT!"] [flames roaring, a voice screaming] That's my favorite fucking song.. [in the background, "Pigs" by Cypress Hill plays] [B-Real] 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's known as a narco.. [music fades] |
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2:46 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
(Fuck you motherfucker! Untie me from this chair man
You better untie me from this chair nigga You know who the fuck I am, I will have you killed nigga! You better untie me motherfucker, fuck y'all motherfuckers man! Do you know who the fuck I am?) [beat drowns out the voice as a Cypress Hill member speaks] Right [duct tape being unrolled] Sho' you right You want a cigarette nigga? [B-Real] You was a good kid, your parents musta loved you They got you out of trouble no matter how big the bubble They gave you everything, nah you never needed nothin We used to get high, 'member we was weeded cousin We used to go to clubs, blaze it up and act crazy What made you turn around, was it drugs or your lady? We had good times, committin hood crimes We drew lines but you never understood mine You don't go fuckin homies, just like my momma told me I held my hood up boldly, you were a fuckin phony I guess it manifested when I got the call early They said you bunkered down in the hood with ol' girly She had your back covered, but that didn't matter did it? I know you're livin, but you put your fuckin self in it Don't try to make a move, nigga don't go fuckin 'dere I know you're hurtin cause you're tied up to the fuckin chair You never loved your family, you robbed that mall gladly They tried to love you sadly, you let 'em down badly Just call me Death's angel, but we were never strangers You 'bout to get mangled, that's truer than Kurt Angle Now it's time to pay, any last words to say? I know your mind strays, son I think you need to pray Don't even need to tell you, you were a smart nigga Save your teardrops, yo don't even start nigga You shoulda thought of that long ago before you fucked me You dodged me long enough, homey now you been lucky But now it's pay the piper, no fuckin traps or snipers Just the gas and lighter, caught up in the web of spiders But now you get devoured, burnin in the flames you coward This is the very hour, I send your family flowers I'm sure they all will miss you, but they will be good without you They'll reminisce and light a candle as they talk about you [Cypress Hill] Relax... no no it's okay Let me give you a light [muffled: "Oh SHIT!"] [flames roaring, a voice screaming] That's my favorite fucking song.. [in the background, "Pigs" by Cypress Hill plays] [B-Real] 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's known as a narco.. [music fades] |
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3:49 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[Intro - samples + vocals]
″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″Once again″ .. ″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″The greatest show on Earth!″ ″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″Back again!″ ″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″I bring to YOU″ [Verse One: B-Real] Welcome everyone, take ya places It′s great seein all these familiar faces You want thug shit? We got a lot of it You wanna get high? I′m on top of it You want bottles? C′mon, we poppin it You want a revolution? Ain′t no stoppin it Enemies try to fire back Desire that, find you where the tire track Cause we run ya down son, but in spite of that Got a joint? Fools give me my lighter back ... I′ma light up the bomb I′ma blaze ′til we set off the fire alarm No need for evacuation Find a honey that′s ill for ejaculation She got friends, well the more the merrier No limits, no worries, no more barriers [Chorus 2X: B-Real, mixed with samples] Once again it′s Cypress Hill We some ill-ass niggaz straight bumpin the field Smoke it up, from now until somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill [Verse Two: B-Real] Plug the mic in, and I′ll move the crowd Neighbors get mad cause the music′s loud I send a few girls in the hall to talk Crusty old man never called the cops No pistols, if you get my drift yo You pull one and miss better slit yo′ wrists bro This ain′t a gangsta party But if you turn it into one a bullet might pierce yo′ body Relax, there′s a lot of girls in here You shitfaced niggaz, don′t earl in here Don′t break shit or take nothin, mind your manners Or your head goes BOOM like it′s fuckin skanless But we ain′t for all that right now, just chill out We can pop bottles or let the blood spill out Cuanta, suck it up, shut your trap Before you lose that fine-ass girl on your lap [Chorus] [Verse Three: B-Real] You wanna room? Let me clear one out But while I′m gone, just don′t let the beers run out In the morn′ we can watch all the tears come out When the pigs come, a nigga wanna hear one out For now, we can pass the time Blazin it up, if you slow you the last in line Got a roach, so what? You ain′t spent a dime You ungrateful-ass critter, back the hell of mine You can, lose the life or lose the knife Use the pipe, but I can′t lose tonight All the girls bein picky who they chose tonight You better hope you chillin with the right crew tonight See that girl over there? Yeah she like your style Probably seen her on the video ″Girls Gone Wild″ Hesitation is constipation of your game when you′re in for a night of elation [Chorus] |
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3:49 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[Intro - samples + vocals]
″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″Once again″ .. ″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″The greatest show on Earth!″ ″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″Back again!″ ″Once again!″ [B-Real] Once again it′s Cypress Hill ″I bring to YOU″ [Verse One: B-Real] Welcome everyone, take ya places It′s great seein all these familiar faces You want thug shit? We got a lot of it You wanna get high? I′m on top of it You want bottles? C′mon, we poppin it You want a revolution? Ain′t no stoppin it Enemies try to fire back Desire that, find you where the tire track Cause we run ya down son, but in spite of that Got a joint? Fools give me my lighter back ... I′ma light up the bomb I′ma blaze ′til we set off the fire alarm No need for evacuation Find a honey that′s ill for ejaculation She got friends, well the more the merrier No limits, no worries, no more barriers [Chorus 2X: B-Real, mixed with samples] Once again it′s Cypress Hill We some ill-ass niggaz straight bumpin the field Smoke it up, from now until somebody calls out steel and we live for the thrill [Verse Two: B-Real] Plug the mic in, and I′ll move the crowd Neighbors get mad cause the music′s loud I send a few girls in the hall to talk Crusty old man never called the cops No pistols, if you get my drift yo You pull one and miss better slit yo′ wrists bro This ain′t a gangsta party But if you turn it into one a bullet might pierce yo′ body Relax, there′s a lot of girls in here You shitfaced niggaz, don′t earl in here Don′t break shit or take nothin, mind your manners Or your head goes BOOM like it′s fuckin skanless But we ain′t for all that right now, just chill out We can pop bottles or let the blood spill out Cuanta, suck it up, shut your trap Before you lose that fine-ass girl on your lap [Chorus] [Verse Three: B-Real] You wanna room? Let me clear one out But while I′m gone, just don′t let the beers run out In the morn′ we can watch all the tears come out When the pigs come, a nigga wanna hear one out For now, we can pass the time Blazin it up, if you slow you the last in line Got a roach, so what? You ain′t spent a dime You ungrateful-ass critter, back the hell of mine You can, lose the life or lose the knife Use the pipe, but I can′t lose tonight All the girls bein picky who they chose tonight You better hope you chillin with the right crew tonight See that girl over there? Yeah she like your style Probably seen her on the video ″Girls Gone Wild″ Hesitation is constipation of your game when you′re in for a night of elation [Chorus] |
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0:50 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[Chorus 2X] My game so strong, I can't go wrong My dough so long, baby why prolong Baby we get high, Baby we get dough Baby we can party all night till death come [Verse One] We been in the game for a long time Yes we're battle tested With the time and the emotion, and the money invested And if you think hard No one elses game is tighter Check the network, up in ya fucking service provider I bought you thug shit Thought you drug shit Got you bugged shit Tell me what we havent done We run you through course son Leave you understanding what the street life is But you haters never understand So eat my dick You better Get on your concentration If you ready to roll on me And good bitches if you wanna unload on me Cause if you miss you won't get that far Ill have you jumping fences And running down the treet like a track star I'm at the finish line, its essential We so influential Well strip you of your street credential Game recognize, game we all about Think you can deminish mine Look homey I got a career [Chorus 2X] [Verse Two] They call me dog homey Look I don't sell woof tickets I got my fingers on the trigger And I'm ready to click it I never back down Theres nothing you cand do to me nigga Who the fuck are you Your face is really new to me nigga You wanna run with the dog Try paying your dues homes Bum nigga yelling every time that I use chrome So many niggaz, aint none of them blast, the right lights In the woods be stunning their ass I took a chance To advance, in my life believe it It takes a stand to be a man Plus the gang conceited Fools trying to be hard They only act the role You little sorry ass bitches, Ill smack you hoes Try to fool people Make em think you something your not I'm exposing all you bitches By provoking the crowd Raw dogging, dying for some action, drama Your bitch shocked out Bullets through plastic dome [Chorus 2X] |
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0:51 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
[Chorus 2X] My game so strong, I can't go wrong My dough so long, baby why prolong Baby we get high, Baby we get dough Baby we can party all night till death come [Verse One] We been in the game for a long time Yes we're battle tested With the time and the emotion, and the money invested And if you think hard No one elses game is tighter Check the network, up in ya fucking service provider I bought you thug shit Thought you drug shit Got you bugged shit Tell me what we havent done We run you through course son Leave you understanding what the street life is But you haters never understand So eat my dick You better Get on your concentration If you ready to roll on me And good bitches if you wanna unload on me Cause if you miss you won't get that far Ill have you jumping fences And running down the treet like a track star I'm at the finish line, its essential We so influential Well strip you of your street credential Game recognize, game we all about Think you can deminish mine Look homey I got a career [Chorus 2X] [Verse Two] They call me dog homey Look I don't sell woof tickets I got my fingers on the trigger And I'm ready to click it I never back down Theres nothing you cand do to me nigga Who the fuck are you Your face is really new to me nigga You wanna run with the dog Try paying your dues homes Bum nigga yelling every time that I use chrome So many niggaz, aint none of them blast, the right lights In the woods be stunning their ass I took a chance To advance, in my life believe it It takes a stand to be a man Plus the gang conceited Fools trying to be hard They only act the role You little sorry ass bitches, Ill smack you hoes Try to fool people Make em think you something your not I'm exposing all you bitches By provoking the crowd Raw dogging, dying for some action, drama Your bitch shocked out Bullets through plastic dome [Chorus 2X] |
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5:01 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
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 Boom biddy bye bye Now it's time to die |
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5:02 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
"Bitch-ass motherfucka! Peter Pie ass nigga! Stand on your own two feet
bitch! How the fuck you gon' bite somebody else's dick, nigga? Yours ain't long enough to put in your mouth! What's up with that shit?" (Background): "'Turn that shit up louder!' Muggs, make it rough." So many fools swingin' from my sack Let's talk about the one who had my back Down in the west coast, so lemme kick it To the motherfucker who calls himself "wicked" No rest, no peace, no sleep Doughboy rolling down the Hill 'cause it's all steep Jackson, lemme figure out the name Jack 'cause you be stealing other niggaz' game But I'm the wrong nigga you wanna fuck with On my dick so hard, now ya wanna suck it Go on the head, gobble up the nuts Get your lips ready and tear this motherfucker up Talk about Eazy, correct yourself Cube, better sit back and check yourself "Yeah, nigga! My homie thought he had a homie in you. He let you listen to our motherfuckin' cut, and you turned around and put some old "Friday" shit out. What kind of shit is that?" Hmmm... Let's talk about this First solo album on the east coast dick The east coast niggaz all showed ya love Especially the one known as the King Sun He tried to warn us niggaz about ya But nobody would listen Even began dissin' Two albums later, you callin' my crew All because ya wanna be Cypress Cube Shoulda known that you couldn't hang in the alley Good boy went to school out in the valley Fuck it, lemme make this understood Speakin' on Mama's little 'Boys in the Hood' "No Vaseline" Just a rope and a chair and gasoline (burning your ass up!) Lench Mob is a friend of mine But you talked about them niggaz from behind "You know what a chazzer is, O'Shea? A motherfucking pig that don't fly straight" Where ya gonna run to? Where ya gonna hide? Taadow, look at who's waitin' outside "I got a can of kick-ass wit' your motherfuckin' name on it, Cube. You wanna come collect it, or should I bring it to you? 'Cause all that bullshit you doin', ain't shit fly about that shit... motherfuckin' thing, and I ain't bullshittin'. You beat them back then fuck off, and that's real. Kick rocks buster." Natural Born Bullshitta Lemme hit ya with a dose of reality when I get wit' ya Your homie came knockin', he had to chain my suit You put a pipe on your cover, even though you don't smoke Buddha Let me take you down under on a plane While everybody was going insane Took a look at the Real one: afro gone The next morning, you didn't have yours on How many ways will you bite my shit? Would ya wet me or start throwing up a set? Caution, when you enter the zone Never used to bang 'til you hit the microphone I got Cube melting in a tray Pulling up his card and fucking up his "good day" Unoriginal rap veteran The nigga who say he don't steal from his friends Don't trust that nigga named O'Shea Fuck 'im, and send him on his way! "Cypress muthafuckin' Hill, the hardest mothafuckin' posse there is out here nigga. So how d'you figure you was gonna step to this? Yeah nigga, the big damn-wham-bam Cypress Hill. Tibby-tibby-toe fool, all for your mothafuckin' dope. Nigga, you can't hang with the hill. W' the fuck you was thinkin' about? You know you step to this, you gotta step correct, 'cause Cypress ain't havin' that shit. Yeah nigga, we crack and fuck you next, who gives a fuck, a mad fuck? So bring it on, if you wanna test it." |
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4:10 |
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from Cypress Hill - Skull & Bones (2000)
[Sen Dog]
Esto es un poquito del poder del grupo Cypress Hill Sabes lo que te digo? Te voy a dar un poquito sabor Y empiezaaaaa assii!!... [B-Real] Hey corre ese, borrate Por que viene la hoota, siempre carga fusca Buscando a la mas filosa clicka La famosa Cypress Hill rifa Todos los vatos salen, estan en la calle Tirense cabrones, si me ven manejar Con los que me junto Con un Magnum quebrando unos putos Puro cholo loco empaca cromo Y te llenamos el saco de plomo Como te puedo hacer entender? (How I could just kill a man?)... Chorus x4: Como te puedo hacer entender? (How I could just kill a man?) [Sen Dog] No le pongo mente a estos pendejos No voy a gastar tiempo Yo te dejo, yo no doy hueco Mira, mis 2 canones Tumbo los cabrones...!!! [B-Real] Traiganme la accion, yo les traigo a tragazon Mis palabras son ataques sin razon Va tu satelite vision Ense?ste un violenta ciclon Hago un ejemplo de todos los pendejos (Y te dejo todo chueco!!!) La chota entro a mi canton Un maton narco pistolon Cubrete guey! o te mato Porque siempre quiebra al mas macizo vato No quisiera matarlo, pero si lo hizo ... cuerpo en el piso (Te dejo todo chueco!!!) Chorus [B-Real] Chingole el tiempo para que termine Las misiones que estableci Empiece, me fumo yerba verde Aveces tumbo gente Vi que un maniaco queria tu carro Crees que la chota te va hacer un paro? No, creo que te vas a parar Y comenzar a cuetear, disparar Mueve puro fierro... Y te deja todo chueco... Como me vas a entender si balazos no te ha llovido? Entiendes lo que digo? Cuando ta de maton, cierro tu canton Por aqui se pone cabron Por el dinero, barrio peleonero Muchas veces robos dejan entierros... Chorus All I wanted was a Pepsi... |
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3:15 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Never Know Lyrics
Artist(Band):Cypress Hill Review The Song (0) Print the Lyrics Never Know Lyrics MP3 Downloads Send Cypress Hill polyphonic ringtone to your cell phone [Chorus 2X] You never know I just might die tonight so lets get hight tonight Might try to fight, some mothers cry tonight Cig in my right hand cause you hold tight to life But you ain′t a bright man [Verse One] You know I live with the biggest hitters, crime committers And bull shitters Never had a quitter come with us Who had the jitters sine some bitter tasting minute I spit it for those who did it Like a soldier so committed to winning You never know who you running with nigga Who you gunning with, who you thugging with In times of struggle shit Never be blinded by diamonds they signin for weak nigga No sign of loyalty in anything you speak You never know You′re breakable, celebrated but fadeable You′re biodegradeable You just might die tonight Get out of my sight cause You ain′t even know theres your fight [Chorus 2X] [Verse Two] I been through the scandal and handled them better than other vandals Hearing insane rambles saying that lifes a gamble Praying for just a sample in amble times To trample, example Enemies who shit they need a pamper You never know Every thug nigga living his life Giving his life meaning Haters in the wings, they feeling their pride stinging We here, death knocking its schocking We keep it popping homey We never stopping we keeping all you bitches dropping homey You never know I can see through and he got an evil intent I′m gonna see to him I think you all got the message its a hard lesson Yo aye you go to pray to god stressing [Chorus 2X] |
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3:15 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Never Know Lyrics
Artist(Band):Cypress Hill Review The Song (0) Print the Lyrics Never Know Lyrics MP3 Downloads Send Cypress Hill polyphonic ringtone to your cell phone [Chorus 2X] You never know I just might die tonight so lets get hight tonight Might try to fight, some mothers cry tonight Cig in my right hand cause you hold tight to life But you ain′t a bright man [Verse One] You know I live with the biggest hitters, crime committers And bull shitters Never had a quitter come with us Who had the jitters sine some bitter tasting minute I spit it for those who did it Like a soldier so committed to winning You never know who you running with nigga Who you gunning with, who you thugging with In times of struggle shit Never be blinded by diamonds they signin for weak nigga No sign of loyalty in anything you speak You never know You′re breakable, celebrated but fadeable You′re biodegradeable You just might die tonight Get out of my sight cause You ain′t even know theres your fight [Chorus 2X] [Verse Two] I been through the scandal and handled them better than other vandals Hearing insane rambles saying that lifes a gamble Praying for just a sample in amble times To trample, example Enemies who shit they need a pamper You never know Every thug nigga living his life Giving his life meaning Haters in the wings, they feeling their pride stinging We here, death knocking its schocking We keep it popping homey We never stopping we keeping all you bitches dropping homey You never know I can see through and he got an evil intent I′m gonna see to him I think you all got the message its a hard lesson Yo aye you go to pray to god stressing [Chorus 2X] |
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3:33 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Yo, I got this plan to make some money. I want you to keep this shit to yourself.
At 6:15 am the truck pulls out the post office, on Lankershin and Wilsher. Now it makes one stop before it goes to Sacramento, which is a mail drop-off at First Federal Loan and Savings. I did whatever I could to get by Slang dope jack people hands in the sky When you livin’ on the edge yeah homie it’s a high You get caught up in the drama and eventually you die Livin’ in a hard world some are livin’ lies Son you better wise up and open up your eyes Shit it never easy homie people will connive Better have a hustle if you mean to survive Why you’re so greedy can you tell us all why Look homie believe me you’re fuckin’ metal ply For the dollar everybody is a target that’s real Talkin’ is smog you’re fate’s signed and sealed You could be the next one cross ‘em in the path What maybe if you do the math you can avoid the blood bath All the money that we stole too weak to take greed Give it to an honest man the money is still deep Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Fiend for the lean green Never get enough is a mother fuckin’ gangs dream For the love of the cash flow You could live fast and you could die slow Sure but you can bet your ass you believe it ‘Cause niggas that you know try hard to be schemin’ Work hard as fuck for everything to rock You a dead mother fucker ‘fore I get got Fools got game floss and drop names My move’s faster than a runaway train Fuck the world don’t ask me for shit That′s you on your knees and you want some dick Spot a gold digger with a hairline trigger Each move you make the reputation get bigger For the love of the money, pussy, drugs Fools change get all twisted up Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Only if ya better keep your eyes peeled ‘Cause you were talkin’ for jacks and that’s real Whether you rap or do biz or drug deal Homie for the dollar you can get yourself killed He decided to jet it could happen with no discussions Straps of all pain fools fuckin’ eruptin’ For the green little papers jackin’ your neighbors But what if your neighbor put arms in his favor Moved up the heater to mash you punk bitches Don’t wanna earn shit you wanna jack for the riches Nothin’ in life’s for free my nigga learn that You burn someone they might just burn back Scorchin’ niggas to the third degree Auh y’all triggers deserve to be Put out of your misery your history son When your body disappears then the mystery come Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all |
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3:33 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Yo, I got this plan to make some money. I want you to keep this shit to yourself.
At 6:15 am the truck pulls out the post office, on Lankershin and Wilsher. Now it makes one stop before it goes to Sacramento, which is a mail drop-off at First Federal Loan and Savings. I did whatever I could to get by Slang dope jack people hands in the sky When you livin’ on the edge yeah homie it’s a high You get caught up in the drama and eventually you die Livin’ in a hard world some are livin’ lies Son you better wise up and open up your eyes Shit it never easy homie people will connive Better have a hustle if you mean to survive Why you’re so greedy can you tell us all why Look homie believe me you’re fuckin’ metal ply For the dollar everybody is a target that’s real Talkin’ is smog you’re fate’s signed and sealed You could be the next one cross ‘em in the path What maybe if you do the math you can avoid the blood bath All the money that we stole too weak to take greed Give it to an honest man the money is still deep Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Fiend for the lean green Never get enough is a mother fuckin’ gangs dream For the love of the cash flow You could live fast and you could die slow Sure but you can bet your ass you believe it ‘Cause niggas that you know try hard to be schemin’ Work hard as fuck for everything to rock You a dead mother fucker ‘fore I get got Fools got game floss and drop names My move’s faster than a runaway train Fuck the world don’t ask me for shit That′s you on your knees and you want some dick Spot a gold digger with a hairline trigger Each move you make the reputation get bigger For the love of the money, pussy, drugs Fools change get all twisted up Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Only if ya better keep your eyes peeled ‘Cause you were talkin’ for jacks and that’s real Whether you rap or do biz or drug deal Homie for the dollar you can get yourself killed He decided to jet it could happen with no discussions Straps of all pain fools fuckin’ eruptin’ For the green little papers jackin’ your neighbors But what if your neighbor put arms in his favor Moved up the heater to mash you punk bitches Don’t wanna earn shit you wanna jack for the riches Nothin’ in life’s for free my nigga learn that You burn someone they might just burn back Scorchin’ niggas to the third degree Auh y’all triggers deserve to be Put out of your misery your history son When your body disappears then the mystery come Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar bill y’all Dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar bill y’all |
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4:09 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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4:07 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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3:54 |
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| from Cypress Hill, Rusko - Cypress X Rusko 01 [ep] (2012) | |||||
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3:28 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
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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4:37 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Ezekial 25:17
The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. AND YOU WILL KNOW MY NAME IS THE LORD, WHEN I LAY MY VENGEANCE UPON THEE! (Shots fired) Smokin' MC's like a bowl of Buddha Burnin' in my bong NOW You don't want to step to the rhythm of the funk degrees You'll be a prisoner in the temple of thieves Move it out, just move it on out, no doubt We the number one crew Kickin' more gas niggas out the house Puttin' up an argument, just don't bother 'Cause I'll whoop that ass just like I'm your father Take heed to the master's call yes y'all (Bring your cell-phone cause I fade them all) Bullets fly But they don't give a fuck about who dies When you're in the middle of the fuckin' No question, confrontation Nowhere to run from the assassination Let the rain come down Whoops there goes another body on the ground Watch out for G hound It's the undisputed Cypress family Kickin' up dust can you handle us fragilly Growin' inside your mind like a tumour Spreading in your head like a rumor Venomous! I'm from the underground, I take care of business What the fuck is this? Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Suckas come in all shapes sizes and colors Let me get the rope And hang 'em 'till their fuckin' necks broke Wind passage cut off, now you can't breathe Let me give you what you need A fat dose of the good weed Like a puppet on a string I'm the one controlling your ass With the rough shit here to bring My army grows like the buddha I sold ya Every seed planted is another fuckin' soldier Like the 'coup d'etate' Now ya are in the middle of the ambush Stuck in your car They can't find ya At the bottom of the lake Let me remind ya You better be lookin' behind ya It's too late, ain't no one standin' here Hallucination, bees hummin' in your ear Paranoia, dwelling to your dome piece Increase, the level of the terror that move ceased Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move Come on Open up the doors for the high funk buddha With the light point the dick can die Rolling with the six shooter Thirty-eight Still shootin' real straight Lookin' for the buster that I must eliminate No surprise As the inches demise Let the four flow As I look him right in the eyes And rip these niggas in half With the (fabergraph) They can't find a path I like the aftermath Still I reign the sect we remain The big bad Cypress Hill, fuckin' niggas up again When I aim I'm scopin' for your brain Brother stay low, cross-hairs break you up the frame Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out! Ahh, now that the mind is open so one can clearly see what they clearly don't want you to see. But it's obvious, isn't it my brother? Get the smoke from in the front of your eyes, got to realize, anybody don't like it: move 'em on out. |
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from Cypress Hill - Lowrider [single] (2001)
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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6:41 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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6:42 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stoned Raiders [Explicit Version] (2001)
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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4:37 |
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| from Cypress Hill - Lowrider [single] (2002) | |||||
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4:37 |
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from Cypress Hill - Lowrider [single] (2002)
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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4:04 |
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from Cypress Hill - IV [Explicit Version] (1998)
I wake up every morning kiss my wife goodbye
hug my kids tell 'em I love 'em I'm out hit the ride. I'm out on patrol in my squad car in LA. where you never know if you'll be making it home today So many different attitudes that I come across I'm harden and scarred and I ain't feeling nobody's loss hustlers, hookers, killers, and thieves out on the street got my mind warped just found another corpse on the beat bound gagged rapes I'm frustrated I hate it found a woman in the dumpster body was mutilated bad dreams all up in my head no lie sometimes I got to take a sniff so I could get by why don't I get help to settle my nerves I got the erg to merge this bullet with my brain release my pain what a fuckin shame I don't wanna live I'll paint the wall with the bloodstains eye of the pig I see it all (hook) Through the eye of the pig..repeat (scratches) I've been on the force over twenty years I can say that I'm worse than some of these mother fuckers I put away I'm in the biggest gang you ever saw above the law looking through the eye of the pig I see it all. drug abusers drug dealin and the gangbang pieces of shit who should be on the fuckin noose hanging. These days you can't tell who's who in the world Is that a shore or is that an innocent young girl. Fuck I need a drink and I'm almost of at the precinct its like an AA meeting all gone wrong. I.A got an eye on my close friend Guy for take supply from evidence from a bust on a buy that doesn't concern me we never rat on eachother we went through the academy just like fratbrothers its midnight I only have an hour left on my shit I think I'll get my dick sucked by this bitch my marriage is all fuck my wife is with the neighbors supeanaed now I gotta sign thse fuckin divorce papers I recall happier times before the fall looking through the eye of the pig I see it all. (hook) Through the eye of the pig..repeat (scratches) Now I'm on my way back to the station to check out so I could go home relax take a drink and think about my abrupt change out of the clean to the corrupt looking through the eye of the pig I'm all fucked no longer can I determine who's the criminal to the innocent man down to the pedafile no one give a fuck about me I'm slippin into darkness I'm coming to grips and feelin heartless What's this a dark green truck tinted windows dually modified probably a drug dealer pulled over to the curb take you key out of the ignition raise your hands out the windows in the get 'em high position don't move or I'll blast your fuckin head off just tell me where the guns and dope are and you'll get off don't give that bullshit I've heard about your raps I'll your talking about is slangin and shooting off your straps okay Mr. B Real get the fuck out of the truck I love it how all you fuckin rappers think you're so tuff get your ass out I don't no probable-cause you got a big sack of coke so take a pause. |
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3:36 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Hey ese look at these two motherfuckers right here homes
What you thinkin' homes Wait `till he turns around homes [Echoed] Watch-out All right I got your back homes, let's go Come on ese let's go Let's do it You don't wanna turn your back on me When you least expect it I come with the wicked method I'm creepin' on ya Now you find your homeboys bleedin' on ya Just the locotes Drumin' out the potes Got a new hollay Jackin' in the noche Give me your faya In your pocket or they'll carry ya Off and bury ya We got in the east side every guy Four and three and two and one Thievery don't stop `till I get done Sometimes I don't even need my gatt But shit's gettin' deep and I gotta blast back `Two' thievery `One' robbery `One' robbery 'Cause jackin' is my hobby Give out that money, jewlery and your keys To the five-o outside on wheels Later out with the `85 Mustang One-time got me on the radar Pousha And ya don't stop `till I'm done Now the Puercos got me on the run Police Radio: "LA-14 in pursuit of two immigrant suspects armed on 187. Headed northbound on central and Ninety-second. Armed two suspects believed to be in 1985 red Mustang license plate Lincoln Charles David Bullshit Madelin three two. Armed and dangerous suspects known to be..." You don't wanna turn your back on me When you least expect it I got your keys in my possession With my Smith & Wesson Takin' out all my aggression Check it out ese You're lookin' at the jefe Off that clicker with a big bad trece I'll teach you a lesson No question Get your ass out, now you're passin' out When ya looked at the cuete Four and three and two and one The robbery don't stop `till I get done Some niggas do this shit for fun Now the Puercos got me on the run From barrio To barrio Lookin?for any barrio Cesario Hangin' out wit' Mario Lookin' for a place to hide On the west side Spank got my back over there it right And it don't stop `till I'm done Now the one-time got me on the run [Police radio] "LA-14, we have spotted the vehicle, suspects nowhere in sight... Aw shit!" [Two shots ring out] How you like me now puto? Fuck you pig Let' go homes It's the fuckin' bus eh Get on ese Right here homes One-times not down with us Now they lookin' for my ride, but I'm on the bus Don't turn your back on a rapper like me `Cause I'm one broke motherfucker in need Desperate What's goin' on in the mente Takin' from the rich an' not from my gente Look at that gabacho slipping Borracho from the cerveza he's sipping No me vale madre Gabacho prey to your padre This is one the time you wanna give me the jale Four and three and two and one This old muthafucka got him a gun BLAM! I took one to the knee-cap Things happened so fast Now I dropped my strap Now I'm about to meet my maker Though I had it all figured out with a paper No longer will I be running Last thing I heard was the fucking gatt humming |
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3:35 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Verse One: B-Real
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 Chorus: I'm the freaka (8X) Verse Two: B-Real 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 Verse Three: Sen Dog 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 Chorus: 1/2 Outro: B-Real 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 [Fades out] |
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5:53 |
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from Cypress Hill - IV [Explicit Version] (1998)
1st verse
Sen Dog Ain't takin nobody back wit me It's on to the end anybody Who wanna get me Ain't lookin back putting all on the line Don't give a fuck bring the ruck one time and I think we should all get down and busy display the footwork leave you psinning till you're dizzy Niggas say who is he but I know for a fact the same fool that's watching is the one who will stab yo' back So make plot patrol nonstop know exactly who comes on the block Take no prisoners put that into effect get the name from your set Tat it on your neck gotta let these motherfuckers know who got next South side Cypress venue out here Out here catchin' wreck and show your respect when you step up to me son Don't immitate cause my style Ain't in season go back to the lab up grade chump get a new chump on before you get Dumped on. (hook) Melt down, takin you home the unknown count down, hittin the grown the seed grown downtown, creepin through alleys the dark night gets lit up when lightning strikes get up. 2nd verse Take a ride when lightening strikes city light are gleamin no sun shine no California dreamin The demon is roamin on the loose who got juice suffer abuse when electric currents are induced. Soul shocker lockin on rock on the brain waves what you clockin on I'm droppin a bomb you get maimed the games you play look up and say you wanna change and rearrange its strange you never go that way. Don't look back forget that you need that just sit back look at the show you see that. Display the raw power black out even the score open the door and break out leave it alone the unknown fury the blind rage step aside get fried and make the front page. Center stage you ask the task to leave quick or suffer the pain leavin no hope to be fixed your heart beat pumpin your blood high pressure look at you stuck in the mud bring in the stretcher strapped down ready to roll to God knows tears coming down of buckets of rain slow. (hook) Melt down, takin you home the unknown count down, hittin the grown the seed grown downtown, creepin through alleys the dark night gets lit up when lightning strikes get up. |
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3:18 |
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from Cypress Hill - Rise Up (2010)
[B-Real]
I’m systematic, hydromatic I’m unorthodox like Lenny Kravitz I don’t play guitar and still on your radar And you can help by screamin, “FUCK YOU HATERS!” I’m so hungry I’ll take what’s on your plate Look in your face like I’ma hit you with the milk crate They say he one of the greatest, he’s a animal My appetite is enormous like that of a cannibal I eat emcees up, you might wanna ease up I squeeze the trigger like I squeeze on a C cup The beat is like crack now, you might wanna re up Pete Rock, hit us with the heat rock, ease up! I’m on the block straight, smokin up a Ozone You in my shit, steady beggin for my homegrown The beat is on, the heat is on If Sen Dog’s Cheech, I must be Chong [Chorus] When I got this mic (i'mma light it up) When I step on stage (i'mma light it up) Go ahead and pass the blunt (i'mma light it up) Everybody everbody (i'mma light it up) [x2] [Sen Dog] I'm so amazing the joint's a blazin' on any occassion forfeit limousine for hatin hip hop so we took the nation by storn on the stages the times are changes My 9 is dangerous My steel is stainless it will leave you brainless none is famous we run LA its nobody take honey's are waitin' backstage at the show they wanna run with the crew half-ska with theis moc in my hand Imma stay true to my friends true to the streets if you say you are a dealer you have to proove it me [Chorus] When I got this mic (i'mma light it up) When I step on stage (i'mma light it up) Go ahead and pass the blunt (i'mma light it up) Everybody everbody (i'mma light it up) [x2] [B-Real] beggin for a bong hit only what you beggin for [Sen Dog] ashes to ashes we put you in the dirt if you fuck with us [B-Real] put it on youtube [Sen Dog] operate with a screw loose last day out I give you a new suit [Chorus] When I got this mic (i'mma light it up) When I step on stage (i'mma light it up) Go ahead and pass the blunt (i'mma light it up) Everybody everbody (i'mma light it up) [x2] |
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2:55 |
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| from Cypress Hill, Rusko - Cypress X Rusko 01 [ep] (2012) | |||||
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3:43 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Fuck all y'all
I'm comin' of the wall I got a nigga from The Source Swingin' from my balls Ughh! Ya want me to set it Well my MAC-11 takes unleaded Let it rain And jackin' out fire What you're seein' when I'm takin' shit another level higher Now it's on Ain't gettin' domed Buckin' all these niggas 'till they all gone Now we can roll to the east side of town And I'm lookin' for a fat boy and a lotta (state of clown) You better move your ass to this MAC-11 Pointed at your ass for the 1-8-7 "Yeah motherfucker, gonna break your back with this shit. Hey motherfuckas: move back! Yo, B-Real.." I'm the head-hunter You goin' under Make a trophy Call it the two-headed buster On my mantle Back in the temple Givin' up the family Up and down Central Butt bloody Anybody Lookin' for a wide body One body Somebody Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson I ain't fallin' off like Humpty-Dumpty Nigga you still wanna bump me Still got the hand on pump And now I'm thumpin' on 'em Thumpin on 'em See Somebody, anybody scream When I got the gatt with the big red beam Now what if I moved it up right between your eyes Now your chances are never When you're lookin' at the slug at the of the barrel Where ya gonna run when ya can't move further Seven eighty one redruM with the Murder Tie him up Throw him in the trunk Let the funk Blow his earsdrums out 'Till he's bleedin' Then let's get him weeded It's the phunk Buddha Let me do the Ceremony up with the hoota And the shooter Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson |
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3:43 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill III : Temples Of Boom (1995)
Fuck all y'all
I'm comin' of the wall I got a nigga from The Source Swingin' from my balls Ughh! Ya want me to set it Well my MAC-11 takes unleaded Let it rain And jackin' out fire What you're seein' when I'm takin' shit another level higher Now it's on Ain't gettin' domed Buckin' all these niggas 'till they all gone Now we can roll to the east side of town And I'm lookin' for a fat boy and a lotta (state of clown) You better move your ass to this MAC-11 Pointed at your ass for the 1-8-7 "Yeah motherfucker, gonna break your back with this shit. Hey motherfuckas: move back! Yo, B-Real.." I'm the head-hunter You goin' under Make a trophy Call it the two-headed buster On my mantle Back in the temple Givin' up the family Up and down Central Butt bloody Anybody Lookin' for a wide body One body Somebody Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson I ain't fallin' off like Humpty-Dumpty Nigga you still wanna bump me Still got the hand on pump And now I'm thumpin' on 'em Thumpin on 'em See Somebody, anybody scream When I got the gatt with the big red beam Now what if I moved it up right between your eyes Now your chances are never When you're lookin' at the slug at the of the barrel Where ya gonna run when ya can't move further Seven eighty one redruM with the Murder Tie him up Throw him in the trunk Let the funk Blow his earsdrums out 'Till he's bleedin' Then let's get him weeded It's the phunk Buddha Let me do the Ceremony up with the hoota And the shooter Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson Some be testin' Keepin' 'em guessin' Smile on my face Got the Smith & Wesson |
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3:46 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Latin Thugs Lyrics
Artist(Band):Cypress Hill Review The Song (0) Print the Lyrics Latin Thugs Lyrics MP3 Downloads Send Cypress Hill polyphonic ringtone to your cell phone Don′t be like, uh, a Cubano Be like el rio stoned marijuano Esta capitan pingolete Swing is here with the force of a machete Kick mad lingo from Spain to Tijuana Real hijo puta homeboy ask yo mama No me importa pinga mi niña All I wanna know que ′ta bueno cinga Don′t be scared echate pa′ ca What′s the play dog homeboy goin′ on Ni**as O.G. straight veterano Master the Spanglish style encojonao Y′all fools know aqui no se juega Don′t act a fool y no rompa las reglas We bien crazy ass asesino Get your guns ready aqui viene peligro [Chorus] Salte con tego Llegaron los mero mero Cuba, Borinquen, Mexico entero Los Angeles, como arriba, andale Prende la mota, yo lo que quiero es pureza Salte con tego Llegaron los mero mero Cuba, Borinquen, Mexico entero Los Angeles They call me papi chulo You know I′m puro I never fade away You see me comin′ get your ass runnin I know you hate away Hit the leño harder than most niggaz you idolize Get it started quicker and hit you before you try to hide Latin thug roll deep pandillero Puro Los Angeles South side ghetto Carpet, car black y perro loco Keep an eye on that fiend, porque yo me la cojo bien pingao, poca lista Saco mi pinga y me chingo la pista Can′t get enough of them L.A. skonka Get a little wild y me como la chocha Listen up compa the big cypress loma Still right here y todavia te controla This ain′t no Telemundo special The homies that I roll with for real will come wet you [Chorus] Hey who the fuck is that Otro negro loco, daddy Y necolado, uno de lo batos malo Mucha mucha bala pa′ los ratones desmaya Que moriran seguro si fayan I ain′t neva scared you heard Otro bobo, esta jodienda yo la controlo Vete manso, vete easy, quedate vivo Como quiera que te ponga lo que hay es castigo Soy vivo latino, pistola, cuchillo Pa′ defenderlo de los enemigos Esto son maligno, no tienen tiqueta ni signo Pero todo dicen lo mismo Siiiimon, Tegon, el de pajon, ese si que un cabron Un majon, blastin′ all these motherfuckers Envidiosos, sapos y chotas Tirale pa′ la cabeza, si se va, no regresa Eh pa′ que su pandilla sepa Otro mas, de circulacion se va papa Y no lloro ni la mama... [chorus] |
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3:46 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
Latin Thugs Lyrics
Artist(Band):Cypress Hill Review The Song (0) Print the Lyrics Latin Thugs Lyrics MP3 Downloads Send Cypress Hill polyphonic ringtone to your cell phone Don′t be like, uh, a Cubano Be like el rio stoned marijuano Esta capitan pingolete Swing is here with the force of a machete Kick mad lingo from Spain to Tijuana Real hijo puta homeboy ask yo mama No me importa pinga mi niña All I wanna know que ′ta bueno cinga Don′t be scared echate pa′ ca What′s the play dog homeboy goin′ on Ni**as O.G. straight veterano Master the Spanglish style encojonao Y′all fools know aqui no se juega Don′t act a fool y no rompa las reglas We bien crazy ass asesino Get your guns ready aqui viene peligro [Chorus] Salte con tego Llegaron los mero mero Cuba, Borinquen, Mexico entero Los Angeles, como arriba, andale Prende la mota, yo lo que quiero es pureza Salte con tego Llegaron los mero mero Cuba, Borinquen, Mexico entero Los Angeles They call me papi chulo You know I′m puro I never fade away You see me comin′ get your ass runnin I know you hate away Hit the leño harder than most niggaz you idolize Get it started quicker and hit you before you try to hide Latin thug roll deep pandillero Puro Los Angeles South side ghetto Carpet, car black y perro loco Keep an eye on that fiend, porque yo me la cojo bien pingao, poca lista Saco mi pinga y me chingo la pista Can′t get enough of them L.A. skonka Get a little wild y me como la chocha Listen up compa the big cypress loma Still right here y todavia te controla This ain′t no Telemundo special The homies that I roll with for real will come wet you [Chorus] Hey who the fuck is that Otro negro loco, daddy Y necolado, uno de lo batos malo Mucha mucha bala pa′ los ratones desmaya Que moriran seguro si fayan I ain′t neva scared you heard Otro bobo, esta jodienda yo la controlo Vete manso, vete easy, quedate vivo Como quiera que te ponga lo que hay es castigo Soy vivo latino, pistola, cuchillo Pa′ defenderlo de los enemigos Esto son maligno, no tienen tiqueta ni signo Pero todo dicen lo mismo Siiiimon, Tegon, el de pajon, ese si que un cabron Un majon, blastin′ all these motherfuckers Envidiosos, sapos y chotas Tirale pa′ la cabeza, si se va, no regresa Eh pa′ que su pandilla sepa Otro mas, de circulacion se va papa Y no lloro ni la mama... [chorus] |
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4:37 |
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from Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill - Unreleased & Revamped [ep] (1996)
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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3:48 |
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from Cypress Hill - Stash [ep, remix] (2002)
[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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3:42 |
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from Cypress Hill - Till Death Do Us Part (2004)
(Verse One)
Reflections of my own life flash like a fire Powder burns the memories life seems a bad dream Fall for centuries physical and the mental When I crashed through work I was cursed but still I Quit my curse found my hustle Stack paper made it world wide Feeling the dream, dont be a hater son Think you the greater one Gotta put you on the fader son Cut your ass up see you later Gotta drop till your praying nigga You ain't a player hust a frail nigga I'm the slayer in your nightmares Unstoppable When you see me on the street Call a audible I got you covered, face it And you can't dodge this bullet baby This ain't the matrix Got to put you in your placement Hide your body in the basement Your boys wonder where your face went (Chorus 2X) Homey we keet those on us Smoke like mufflers To calm down/I sell But still explode Those things so fast/they know not to gas they self They can't fuck with us, we laugh last (Verse Two) Backbreakers of the game Many many musical Legendary criminal destined to be professional I rain supreme Ever since my days you rock vest just to push your range No doubt about it We grew up in the cloud Read up in your magazine just to see what were about Peep into the case, see me, ask Why that black ass nigga flow over the piano Droppin it good For that hoody in the front row Thats my good pro down for the juggalo Three guns busted for the battle man Shoot the whole scene make the motherfucker rattle Duece, double o, slow Church folk say we ain't got too many more Either man rush I'm gonna hit em with the head rush So be careful on what you trusting (Chorus 2X) Homey we keet those on us Smoke like mufflers To calm down/I sell But still explode Those things so fast/they know not to gas they self They can't fuck with us, we laugh last (Verse Three) Yo I was walking on the block Heard a couple shots Caught one in the leg And I know who did it They gonna get it Wrap up my leg Bounced upstairs and got strapped up I love that drama shit I'm all gassed up I lit that kush up and got doughed up And thought about all the foul shit I did I can't help it, I was this way since a kid Then I slide out the crib Hunt down my pray The look in my eyes like I sniffed some yay Ran up on homes And blast away He passed away twin got the last laugh today Anybody front I keep that on me You had to die homey thats part of the game I got guns put niggaz don't know how to aim I'm in the shooting range mastering the art (Chorus 2X) Homey we keet those on us Smoke like mufflers To calm down/I sell But still explode Those things so fast/they know not to gas they self They can't fuck with us, we laugh last |
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