(Intro: Barron Ricks)
That's right nigga, dynamic duo style, what?
Green horn in a cadle style motherf*cker
(Barron Ricks)
Oh shit, my styles' progress like hot sex upon a firm matress
But limit the techniques to get freak
Now look at me, Cavarsay, Cognac, VS'll be puffin' the don-deago
Macanoodle, out armadayo
(B-Real)
Yayo, up, ready to sell and bail, we niggas afrail
(Post-dated, put 'em in the mail nigga)
I'm the hill figure, deliver your body to the river (uh)
How you feelin' (how you), how you livin' (how you), how you breathin'
(Barron Ricks)
F*ck it, whatever's clever, fort and sex and def or real I got your back
Which ever Squadron you attack yo I attack
I got my automated Mossberg, hand on the pump
ready to dump, so yo we gettin' dum-de-de-dum-dum-dum
(B-Real)
Dum-de-de-dum, when they hearin' the gats hum like a siren
Niggas they be, barkin' and whilin'
Thuggin' in stylin', holdin' the dope smilin'
Yo, smooth, what you pilin' up, go make a move
(Barron Ricks)
Yo, path for Central Harlem where niggas be sparkin' son I beg your pardon
Ese rollin', if you got it, pass it to the margin
If you want it greedy, come and get it
Aiyyo, we got it, Cypress, Cannibus Seeteeva, f*ckin' freak of shit
(B-Real)
Motherf*ckers refuse to loose my whole crew, don't get it confused
Don't light a fuse or get bruised
Like a gat I'll have to bust your ass or feel the blast of the shot glass
full of jack and smokin' hash
(Chorus: B-Real)
(So can you handle this) They can't f*ckin' handle this
(So can you handle this) It be that Cypress Hill shit -ac
Barron Ricks - Can You Handle This Lyrics
Barron Ricks - Can You Handle This Lyrics
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(Intro: Barron Ricks)
That's right nigga, dynamic duo style, what?
Green horn in a cadle style motherf*cker
(Barron Ricks)
Oh shit, my styles' progress like hot sex upon a firm matress
But limit the techniques to get freak
Now look at me, Cavarsay, Cognac, VS'll be puffin' the don-deago
Macanoodle, out armadayo
(B-Real)
Yayo, up, ready to sell and bail, we niggas afrail
(Post-dated, put 'em in the mail nigga)
I'm the hill figure, deliver your body to the river (uh)
How you feelin' (how you), how you livin' (how you), how you breathin'
(Barron Ricks)
F*ck it, whatever's clever, fort and sex and def or real I got your back
Which ever Squadron you attack yo I attack
I got my automated Mossberg, hand on the pump
ready to dump, so yo we gettin' dum-de-de-dum-dum-dum
(B-Real)
Dum-de-de-dum, when they hearin' the gats hum like a siren
Niggas they be, barkin' and whilin'
Thuggin' in stylin', holdin' the dope smilin'
Yo, smooth, what you pilin' up, go make a move
(Barron Ricks)
Yo, path for Central Harlem where niggas be sparkin' son I beg your pardon
Ese rollin', if you got it, pass it to the margin
If you want it greedy, come and get it
Aiyyo, we got it, Cypress, Cannibus Seeteeva, f*ckin' freak of shit
(B-Real)
Motherf*ckers refuse to loose my whole crew, don't get it confused
Don't light a fuse or get bruised
Like a gat I'll have to bust your ass or feel the blast of the shot glass
full of jack and smokin' hash
(Chorus: B-Real)
(So can you handle this) They can't f*ckin' handle this
(So can you handle this) It be that Cypress Hill shit -ac
That's right nigga, dynamic duo style, what?
Green horn in a cadle style motherf*cker
(Barron Ricks)
Oh shit, my styles' progress like hot sex upon a firm matress
But limit the techniques to get freak
Now look at me, Cavarsay, Cognac, VS'll be puffin' the don-deago
Macanoodle, out armadayo
(B-Real)
Yayo, up, ready to sell and bail, we niggas afrail
(Post-dated, put 'em in the mail nigga)
I'm the hill figure, deliver your body to the river (uh)
How you feelin' (how you), how you livin' (how you), how you breathin'
(Barron Ricks)
F*ck it, whatever's clever, fort and sex and def or real I got your back
Which ever Squadron you attack yo I attack
I got my automated Mossberg, hand on the pump
ready to dump, so yo we gettin' dum-de-de-dum-dum-dum
(B-Real)
Dum-de-de-dum, when they hearin' the gats hum like a siren
Niggas they be, barkin' and whilin'
Thuggin' in stylin', holdin' the dope smilin'
Yo, smooth, what you pilin' up, go make a move
(Barron Ricks)
Yo, path for Central Harlem where niggas be sparkin' son I beg your pardon
Ese rollin', if you got it, pass it to the margin
If you want it greedy, come and get it
Aiyyo, we got it, Cypress, Cannibus Seeteeva, f*ckin' freak of shit
(B-Real)
Motherf*ckers refuse to loose my whole crew, don't get it confused
Don't light a fuse or get bruised
Like a gat I'll have to bust your ass or feel the blast of the shot glass
full of jack and smokin' hash
(Chorus: B-Real)
(So can you handle this) They can't f*ckin' handle this
(So can you handle this) It be that Cypress Hill shit -ac