Cypress hill
Don't let nobody treat me like crap I'm pullin heads off sharp and smack em off francs The best in these days I smoke on these tracks Gonna mash your plan for holdin me back Jump up rush the office with the gat Lettin the niggaz see where my mind is at Hurry up to the walls see how I react But I keep comin back and that's for a fact I got the beef, but no road I got dropped And take each day the bullshit don't stop Got to act with the man cause I don't suck cock No matter how bad I wanna get to the top The music go out like a fuckin lot With the key and the dat I rap and just stop Come and see me on a Soul Assas trip Hittin stage, generate, pumpin all that lip YOU CAN'T FUCK WITH ME I AM EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT TO BE A FUCKIN MAN! YOU CAN'T FUCK WITH ME I AM EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT TO BE A FUCKIN MAN! If y'all ever need help I don't wait And I come from some shit that's put away I hit these suckers that think they so great Still a nigga die, so they can update No matter how you try you'll always be fate Breakin off chunks off of what I create I see that liquorice all over your face Back-stab a nigga in the mist of the chase Fuck the bullshit let's get to the bottom Stompin punk styles, agein rock got em Only thing I don't wanna say when I drop em Loadin my shells so don't try to hock em Hittin the heat with the jig-ass beats Bite my style, is the only way to compete Smoke anybody if I ever lop heat And anybody else that wanna fuck with me YOU CAN'T FUCK WITH ME I AM EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT TO BE A FUCKIN MAN! YOU CAN'T FUCK WITH ME I AM EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT TO BE A FUCKIN MAN! I sing funky-ass shit that I bring Fly likes a lot when I do my thing Check it out y'all ain't no one nicer Got it goin on with the mighty wanna cipher Got a women crazy, when I beg And hip-hop styles with the SX-10 Trust no one ain't nobody your friend Cause this business hear all about to end Don't mean comin back when they bust the raps And all the little things of the nicer tracks Hangin out in the uniform Keep what I'm doin here all night long Is to keep it goin, bring the thunder and pain Ain't bitches same since I went insane Fuckin with these bitches up in this game To the depicts, drain on my FUCKIN TRAIN YOU CAN'T FUCK WITH ME I AM EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT TO BE A FUCKIN MAN! YOU CAN'T FUCK WITH ME I AM EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANT TO BE A FUCKIN MAN!
Get ready motherfuckers! You can't fuck with the [spanish] Please no interruptions Your crew pull up guns get waxed in the sun Like my rag top six-five Smash you with the switches The hitch is, you're gettin too big for your britches Why you runnin like bitches With your tail up, I'm the thug pirate Put the sail up - your whole crew frail, what You want this joint, suck it inhale nut Niggas are feelin' this track in Braille, huh We're grade A while you motherfuckers fail, what You understand, immitators gotta bail up To all the males and females gangin' up All on my cell phone talkin' shit, hangin' up I gotta show you how a nigga bang it up Slangin' cuts Chorus: Your squad against mine You're minor leagues with major Detail the plans like verse Hit hard, catch you off guard Another Victory I slay rappers with precision I got vision like Anakin You panicin' I'm leavin you stiffer than a mannequin My high lyrics constantly brain damagin' Brandishin' a fire arm, still managin' Hurt niggas, bandagin' who give my lyrics That play like a mandolin I hold my mic like my dick, but you handlin' I kill flows on tracks who abandonin' I eat you like pussy, then take a sample, Then spit fire in the places you standin' in I take a fool to the Hill Light a candle then you in the dark stuck part in the scandalin' Now I see your whole brain's scramblin' Don't like what you hear, change the channel then nigga Chorus I spark cells of a rhythm You best listen, get it over with Stolen shit, rollin it, Cypress ownin' it Bitin' niggas clonin it, I got a dog got a bone to pick, you holdin' it Suck it hard swallow easy, put a soul in it Your body's on the floor, head got a hole in it The weed master, rhyme killer, mic controllin' it You still fuckin' but your wack, ain't throwin' it Stepped in shit, now your chillin' all alone in it Head full of hair, still ain't combin' it Five child in the world who's ropin' it Never know if i'm high or i'm throwin' shit I got you stuck in the Twilight Zone on shit I'm the owner of the fat joint you rollin' with, bitch
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
Some people tell me that I need help Some people can fuck off and go to hell God damn, why they criticize me Now shit is on the rise so my family despise me Fuck em! And feed em cause I don't need em I won't join em if I can beat em They don't understand my logic To my gat to my money and I'm hooked on chronic I never wanted to hurt a nigga Unless ya come flexin that trigga, I dig ya That grave on the east side of town Lay ya six feet underground From man, to the dust to the ashes All I remember tell me where the cash is Clic Cloc barrel at my dome Give all your loot or you ain't going home But I ain't going out wit the pain Wa da da dang, wa dada daa dang I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions fuckin me up in my mind I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions fuckin me up in my mind Muthafuckas be drivin me up the walls Hopin that I fall but they can suck my balls Straight jacket, strap it In a padded room when some punk niggaz can't hack it Distracted from our reality Now I'm let out on a minor technicality They all fucked up now Cause they let a nigga back on the street somehow I'm lookin for someone like me Livin in my own world to my own degree On the loose in the city lookin at the ho wit the big titties Lookin at me and I feel shitty A little tensed up gettin hot Cause she looks like my girl who just smoked at the crack spot I'm tryin to find ways to cope But I ain't fuckin round wit the gauge or a rope I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions fuckin me up in my mind I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions drivin me mad inside I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions fuckin me up in my mind I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions I'm havin illusions
Living in the city of the Scandalous Shisty motherfuckers, can't even trust my own brothers So who can I choose to trust, me, that's who Niggas want a piece of the pie, fuck off and die! Jealous, envious fools want to rush this Loco, trooping ass nigga with the cash, shit Motherfuckers just get your own, and leave mine alone Forty-five places to get done Send out your invitation To the party of your elimination I got peeps that play for keeps, (Hardball) Now I'm laying your ass down to sleep But every hustler wants to be bawling But I got the balls for the shot calling I pull strings, the Don King, only in America Then I hustle, and flex my muscle --Yeah, man, I've been out here running game for eight years --I know I'm getting tired of standing on this corner --Nigga, I want a fat pad, and fly ass pool Finest motherfucking bitches, jewels and all that shit, if I got to take it from a nigga --Shit, let him run for me then --I can work for myself, don't have to work for nobody, I'll be my own hustler Where can I roam to get my hustle on Killafornia, stacking the chips, got the full clips Loaded and cocked, I'm used to running with the Glock Nina Millimeter, lighting up the fucking block Now, who you gonna trust?, who can you trust? I don't know, but if you coming on my corner I think I'm gonna bust You can't handle us, devious, dangerous Criminal mentality, insanity I move weight, from state to state All the niggas moving weights, can you relate? --Damn, what's up, I see you pushing that big time weight --I told you, I wasn't bullshitting --You coming up, aight! --When I seen you three or four months ago I told you --Got respect for a man now --Handle your shit! Where can I choose to get my hustle on? In the alleyway, lighting up all night long Fuck working at McD's, I'm rolling with the O.Z's In the QP's, puffing on trees Who can I trust?, who can you trust? Not that shady motherfucker in the city Los Scandalous --Well, well, little man came up a little bit --It feels good having money in the pocket --Fuck that nine to five bullshit, right? --Yeah, kick that shit to the curb --But you got to look out for the scandalous motherfuckers Cuz niggas is tricky than a motherfucker --Yeah, but motherfuckers got to look out for us too You know what I'm saying I'm just as shisty as a nigga --Shit, set me up and niggas are gonna die --You get set up back, cuz we ain't having that bullshit --I got your back, you got mine, that goes without saying --Twenty-seven and mo' baby, twenty-seven and mo' --Let's get the fuck out of here"
Once again the powers of the herb open up the mind, Seek deep inside, tell me what you find, Come on... [B-Real]: Who be the ones steppin' in the room, Everybody welcome to the temple of boom, Back, let me see ya fat indo sack, And get weeded, somebody, everybody need it, Mari-Juana, Mari-Juana, do ya wanna, Give me love when I put the flame on ya, Homie I'm the one with the shotgun,in the closet, Next to the fat bags full of chronic, Puto, don't ya be steppin', with ya hands open, Askin' me "can I get a hit of what t'cha smokein'", I aint got no kind of love for a brother, Who comes to the party, with no bud, I be smokein' this, indo-blazin', funk buddah, Everybody, wanted it, now they talk about the hooter, Up until the summer of '91, Wasn't no mutha fuckas talkin' 'bout smokein' blunts, From the west coast to the east coast, Everybody be braggin', But , I'm the one who be puffin' most, First it started with the nickel, then the dime, Then the Twenty, spendin' up all my money, Now, I roll with the nelco(?), With the pound in the pad smokein' up the indo, Just take a deep breath (Ahh), Hit it then pass it to the left, You can keep the mutha fuckin' stress, Smoke it up, just puff it up, (O yea), Light it up, then put your spliff up in the air, Do you wanna spark another owl? Do you wanna spark another owl? Everybody spark another owl. Everybody spark another owl. I wanna spark another owl. I wanna spark another owl. Do you wanna spark another owl? Do you wanna spark another owl? (Sen Dog)Yea, stroll the ways of the buddah mastas, brings me to the temple of boom, I see people everywhere startin' to understand the point, when I'm talking about the joint, talkin' 'bout that marijuana, talkin' 'bout the sense, talkin' 'bout the kind mota boca loa-loa maui,maui, lugers of work- ready, mexican greenba, cheeba, cheeba y'all, yeska, humble pound weed, the crypt, the choclate tide, the afgani, the meefrakan, the indo, the skonka, the bad breath sense (cough). Hello everyone, I'm Kurt Loaded, we're here t hemp TV, with Cypress Hill in Amsterdam we're listening to there new album, I'm stoned, I'm outta here, Goodbye folks.