I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
Well that's the funk elastic, the blunt I twist it
The slamafied, (buddafied) funk on your discus
Oh, what you messed with, you got to bare witness
Catch a ho and another ho Merry Christmas
Yes I smoke shit, straight off the roach clip
I roach it roll the blunt at once to approach it
Forward motion make you sway like the ocean
The herb is more than just a powerful potion
What's the commotion, yo I'm not joking around
People learning about, what they're smoking
My oven is on high, when I roast the quail
Tell Bill Clinton to go and inhale
Exhale, now you felt the funk of the power
now feel the effects...
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
I want to get high - so high!
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the from the bong from the bong
yo hits from the bong
yo hits from the from the bong from the bong
yo hits from the from the bong from the bong
Cypress Hill - Black Sunday Album Lyrics
Cypress Hill - Black Sunday Lyrics
Writer: LOUIS M. FREEZE, LARRY E. MUGGERUD
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
I Aint Goin Out Like That
Let's kick it ese
COMMIN' OUT DA SLUMS!!!
It's da hoodlums
I'm pullin' my gat out on all you bums
So bring it on when you wanna come fight this
Outlaw, I'll kick ya like Billy Ray Cypress Hill
Kill, I'll bust that grill
Grab my gat, and load up the steel
And if you wanna get drastic
I'll pull out my blasted glock, automatic,
Synthetic material, bury your blocks-n-mortar
Headed down to da Mexican border
Smokin' that smellie, Northern Cali,
Gonna put a slug in Captain O'Malley
Ho, hum-Hear the gat come
Boooooommmmmm!
Let me see what you'll do when you're sent to kill a man
But I'll be damned if I don't take a stand
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out like that!"
I'm high strung
Click I'm sprung
'Cause I don't live on the hum-drum
Where I'm from the gats'll be smokin'
I'll be damned if ya think I'm jokin'
Know that I come with the static, erratic, .45 automatic
Screamin' at ya-the red lights beamin' at ya
No need to run after the punk-ass who'd run up to my crew
Dig the grave for the one who got played
Now he's under
Don't make me wonder why 'cause you'll testify
We ain't goin' out like that
I got to thinkin' "What the f*ck is this?"
Lettin' you know I take care of business
Can I get a witness?
To verify when I'm to bring this style
That makes you ecstatic
Tragic, when I get a poof of the magic buddha
When I roll with my crew
I betcha one time can't find my hooda!
Hits'll be hitting with the belt unbuckled (I don't know this line)
Pig rollin' up but he ain't that subtle
Pulled to da curb
So we exchange a few words
But he got me stirred up
"Ought not to grab the handcuffs.
I'll huff-n-puff-n-blow ya head of!"
We ain't goin' out like that
EAT A BOWL OF DICK UP!! GEEEYEAH!!
[Final Speech]
Yeah takin' your disses and dissin' ya right back
This is the Cypress Hill crew, like main shit
Yo and I'm talk this damn rappa
Eat a bowl a dick up, there ya go my man over here
You can eat a bowl o' dick up too
Anybody else need from runnin' away
Yo, eat a bowl of dick up G!
COMMIN' OUT DA SLUMS!!!
It's da hoodlums
I'm pullin' my gat out on all you bums
So bring it on when you wanna come fight this
Outlaw, I'll kick ya like Billy Ray Cypress Hill
Kill, I'll bust that grill
Grab my gat, and load up the steel
And if you wanna get drastic
I'll pull out my blasted glock, automatic,
Synthetic material, bury your blocks-n-mortar
Headed down to da Mexican border
Smokin' that smellie, Northern Cali,
Gonna put a slug in Captain O'Malley
Ho, hum-Hear the gat come
Boooooommmmmm!
Let me see what you'll do when you're sent to kill a man
But I'll be damned if I don't take a stand
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out!"
We ain't goin' out like that
"We ain't goin' out like that!"
I'm high strung
Click I'm sprung
'Cause I don't live on the hum-drum
Where I'm from the gats'll be smokin'
I'll be damned if ya think I'm jokin'
Know that I come with the static, erratic, .45 automatic
Screamin' at ya-the red lights beamin' at ya
No need to run after the punk-ass who'd run up to my crew
Dig the grave for the one who got played
Now he's under
Don't make me wonder why 'cause you'll testify
We ain't goin' out like that
I got to thinkin' "What the f*ck is this?"
Lettin' you know I take care of business
Can I get a witness?
To verify when I'm to bring this style
That makes you ecstatic
Tragic, when I get a poof of the magic buddha
When I roll with my crew
I betcha one time can't find my hooda!
Hits'll be hitting with the belt unbuckled (I don't know this line)
Pig rollin' up but he ain't that subtle
Pulled to da curb
So we exchange a few words
But he got me stirred up
"Ought not to grab the handcuffs.
I'll huff-n-puff-n-blow ya head of!"
We ain't goin' out like that
EAT A BOWL OF DICK UP!! GEEEYEAH!!
[Final Speech]
Yeah takin' your disses and dissin' ya right back
This is the Cypress Hill crew, like main shit
Yo and I'm talk this damn rappa
Eat a bowl a dick up, there ya go my man over here
You can eat a bowl o' dick up too
Anybody else need from runnin' away
Yo, eat a bowl of dick up G!
Writer: TERENCE BUTLER, FRANK IOMMI, JOHN OSBOURNE, W.T. WARD, LOUIS FREEZE, LARRY MUGGERUD, TODD RAY
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, T.R.O. INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, T.R.O. INC.
Insane In The Brain
Who you trying to get crazy with ése?
Don't you know I'm loco?
To the one on the flamboyant tip
I'll just toss that ham in the frying pan
Like Spam, get done when I come and slam
Damn, I feel like the Son of Sam
Don't make me wreck shit, hectic
Next get the chair got me going like General Electric
"Aaant", the lights are blinking, I'm thinking
It's all over when I go out drinking
Oh, making my mind slow
That's why I don't f*ck with the big 4-O
Bro, I got to maintain
'Cause a nigga like me is going insane
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Crazy insane, got no brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Do my shit undercover, now it's time for the blubber
Blabber, to watch that belly get fatter
Fat boy on a diet, don't try it
I'll jack yo' ass like a looter in a riot
My shit's fat, like a Sumo, slamming dat ass
Leavin' your face in the grass
'Cause you know, I don't take a duro, lightly
Punks just jealous 'cause they can't outwrite me
Or kick that style, wicked, wild
Happy face nigga never seen me smile
Rip that mainframe, I'll explain
A nigga like me is going insane
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Crazy insane, got no brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the brain, in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain, in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain, in the brain (insane)
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain (damn, nigga)
Gunshot inna yuh head back
Like Louie Armstrong, played the trumpet
I'll hit that bong and break you off something
Soon I got to get my props
Cops, come and try to snatch my crops
These pigs wanna blow my house down
Head underground to the next town
They get mad when they come to raid my pad
And I'm out in the nine-deuce Cad'
Yes I'm the pirate, pilot
Of this ship if I get with the ultraviolet dream
Hide from the red light beam
Now do you believe in the unseen?
Look, but don't make your eyes strain
A nigga like me is going insane
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Crazy insane, got no brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Don't you know I'm loco?
To the one on the flamboyant tip
I'll just toss that ham in the frying pan
Like Spam, get done when I come and slam
Damn, I feel like the Son of Sam
Don't make me wreck shit, hectic
Next get the chair got me going like General Electric
"Aaant", the lights are blinking, I'm thinking
It's all over when I go out drinking
Oh, making my mind slow
That's why I don't f*ck with the big 4-O
Bro, I got to maintain
'Cause a nigga like me is going insane
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Crazy insane, got no brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Do my shit undercover, now it's time for the blubber
Blabber, to watch that belly get fatter
Fat boy on a diet, don't try it
I'll jack yo' ass like a looter in a riot
My shit's fat, like a Sumo, slamming dat ass
Leavin' your face in the grass
'Cause you know, I don't take a duro, lightly
Punks just jealous 'cause they can't outwrite me
Or kick that style, wicked, wild
Happy face nigga never seen me smile
Rip that mainframe, I'll explain
A nigga like me is going insane
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Crazy insane, got no brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the brain, in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain, in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain, in the brain (insane)
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain (damn, nigga)
Gunshot inna yuh head back
Like Louie Armstrong, played the trumpet
I'll hit that bong and break you off something
Soon I got to get my props
Cops, come and try to snatch my crops
These pigs wanna blow my house down
Head underground to the next town
They get mad when they come to raid my pad
And I'm out in the nine-deuce Cad'
Yes I'm the pirate, pilot
Of this ship if I get with the ultraviolet dream
Hide from the red light beam
Now do you believe in the unseen?
Look, but don't make your eyes strain
A nigga like me is going insane
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the membrane
Crazy insane, got no brain
Insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Insane in the brain
Because I'm loco
Writer: Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze, Senen Reyes
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
When The Shit Goes Down
[Cypress] Born to get busy, born to get busy baby -- 2X
[Sen Dog]
I'm the the stiff and I do get nice-r
Up the pussy when we in the same party, what
We can do this bro, we can't be maxin
The figures is useless, unless we're taxin
This is a perfection and my tribe's the cash dump
Known as a musician, imitator act up
Nobody's kid brother, that means I'm up for this task
And I set out from the beginning, to kick on the scratch
Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap
I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all
Comes very handy when it comes to pushin shovin and stuff
Then ask who is he though, I'm not the sissy
I'm stiff to neutral brother, and I'm born to get busy
[B-Real]
Let us start to freak you and we'll make you feel alright
When you come to Cypress HIll make sure that you're down with the tribe
Cause we're born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby -- 3X
B-b-b-b-busy!
(Yeaaaahhhaaaahaha, yeah!)
[Sen Dog]
As I stroll the ever ways of the buddha masters
As I smoke my joint I feel one with the earth
But a brother like me keeps on walkin to get to the
next sign then blaze the next joint...
*short pause, then outro comes on over "Stoned" instrumental*
The, physical effects of marijuana
The first sensations may be felt instantly after having smoked grass
or an hour after having eaten
Usually, they creep slowly into this stoned condition
Inch by inch, sliding upward, but to beatnik
The effects may come upon you, suddenly, and startle you full force
(The, physical effects of marijuana)
(There are four basic types of marijuana)
Pyschologically, sometimes the early psychological stages
coincide with the early physical stages experienced while stoned
The famous "mind expansion" comes after the famous physical sensation
Grass, heightens and distorts
For example, profound revelations
You may THINK you have profound revelations, only to discover...
*music and fade obscure final words*
[Sen Dog]
I'm the the stiff and I do get nice-r
Up the pussy when we in the same party, what
We can do this bro, we can't be maxin
The figures is useless, unless we're taxin
This is a perfection and my tribe's the cash dump
Known as a musician, imitator act up
Nobody's kid brother, that means I'm up for this task
And I set out from the beginning, to kick on the scratch
Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap
I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all
Comes very handy when it comes to pushin shovin and stuff
Then ask who is he though, I'm not the sissy
I'm stiff to neutral brother, and I'm born to get busy
[B-Real]
Let us start to freak you and we'll make you feel alright
When you come to Cypress HIll make sure that you're down with the tribe
Cause we're born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby -- 3X
B-b-b-b-busy!
(Yeaaaahhhaaaahaha, yeah!)
[Sen Dog]
As I stroll the ever ways of the buddha masters
As I smoke my joint I feel one with the earth
But a brother like me keeps on walkin to get to the
next sign then blaze the next joint...
*short pause, then outro comes on over "Stoned" instrumental*
The, physical effects of marijuana
The first sensations may be felt instantly after having smoked grass
or an hour after having eaten
Usually, they creep slowly into this stoned condition
Inch by inch, sliding upward, but to beatnik
The effects may come upon you, suddenly, and startle you full force
(The, physical effects of marijuana)
(There are four basic types of marijuana)
Pyschologically, sometimes the early psychological stages
coincide with the early physical stages experienced while stoned
The famous "mind expansion" comes after the famous physical sensation
Grass, heightens and distorts
For example, profound revelations
You may THINK you have profound revelations, only to discover...
*music and fade obscure final words*
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LAWRENCE EMMETT DICKENS, LOUIS M. FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CARLIN AMERICA INC
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CARLIN AMERICA INC
Lick A Shot
"Oh yeah it is!"
"Colour is not important."
Lick a shot!
"Oh!"
Comin' at ya
"Fire!"
Zippedy do da, zippedy hey
Cried oh my, wanna get that punk with my AK
And get on the way
On a mission, puffin' on a fat ass jay
Prude! You can't hang
Flash back on the skills when I used to bang
On the corner
I'll warn ya
Gonna roll on ya
Fool
Hit ya with a golden rule
Don't turn your back on the street
When I hit that corner, feel the concrete
If ya push that by like nothin'
Watch me turn to a psycho all of a sudden
Blastin' at these fools with a passion
Look at the Glock when it's time for some action
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Sunday morning
Wake up it's stormin'
Raindrops fallin' on my head it's pourin'
Cats an' dogs
Pigs in a wagon
Lookin' for the Afro - one that's saggin'
Scooby-Doo
An' f*cked down too
Ploy me
Don't let your punk ass try me
Gonna take more
Then you better call your backup team
And wait for the crew
I'm the one flippin'
Keepin' the clip
On my hip an'
Just watch your back if you're slippin'
Oooo
Where did that .22
Come from
When the bullet past through my lung
I've lost my breath I'm winded
I've been hit, by a slug that wasn't intended
I hear thunder
I wonder
If a nigga like me's goin' under
Take a number!
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Had a bad dream
Woke up in a casket
Now I can't even get back at the bastard
Bull-shit!
This pine box
Ain't strong enough to contain the Afro Marx
Critical bell rings
Snapped out the dream
What the f*ck's up with the funny red beam
Pointin' at me
I got no strap G
What now: gotta duck, they're gonna gatt me
Bam, I feel numb
Where did the shotgun blast come from
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
"Colour is not important."
Lick a shot!
"Oh!"
Comin' at ya
"Fire!"
Zippedy do da, zippedy hey
Cried oh my, wanna get that punk with my AK
And get on the way
On a mission, puffin' on a fat ass jay
Prude! You can't hang
Flash back on the skills when I used to bang
On the corner
I'll warn ya
Gonna roll on ya
Fool
Hit ya with a golden rule
Don't turn your back on the street
When I hit that corner, feel the concrete
If ya push that by like nothin'
Watch me turn to a psycho all of a sudden
Blastin' at these fools with a passion
Look at the Glock when it's time for some action
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Sunday morning
Wake up it's stormin'
Raindrops fallin' on my head it's pourin'
Cats an' dogs
Pigs in a wagon
Lookin' for the Afro - one that's saggin'
Scooby-Doo
An' f*cked down too
Ploy me
Don't let your punk ass try me
Gonna take more
Then you better call your backup team
And wait for the crew
I'm the one flippin'
Keepin' the clip
On my hip an'
Just watch your back if you're slippin'
Oooo
Where did that .22
Come from
When the bullet past through my lung
I've lost my breath I'm winded
I've been hit, by a slug that wasn't intended
I hear thunder
I wonder
If a nigga like me's goin' under
Take a number!
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Had a bad dream
Woke up in a casket
Now I can't even get back at the bastard
Bull-shit!
This pine box
Ain't strong enough to contain the Afro Marx
Critical bell rings
Snapped out the dream
What the f*ck's up with the funny red beam
Pointin' at me
I got no strap G
What now: gotta duck, they're gonna gatt me
Bam, I feel numb
Where did the shotgun blast come from
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Let the gatt hummm
Lick a shot!
So I let the gatt hummm
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LARRY E. MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Cock The Hammer
I'm a chicken hawk (On a chicken-hunt), huntin' for a chicken
Get paranoid when you hear my Glock clickin'
Speakin' to the punk-ass victim(punk that's tweakin')
With the bitch-ass styles I hit you like Deacon
Jones house, cough without the bones
I rolled ya up and smoked you like bones (cones)
Split the seed and grow you like clones
Don't start-me-up, cause I'm not the Rolling Stones
But I get stoned with a little help from my friends
With the (gubla), then I passed it round back to me again
I can make you famous like Amos
Same as the last punk, when I stuck the gatt up his anus
Hear me growl: Grrra! Howl!
I got the night vision just like the wise old owl
I'm comin' ta fetch ya
Yeah homes I'll wet ya (Yeah home direct ya)
Bury them bones
Under my home and
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
With (Take) my weapon, step into a whole new realm
And step back, as I take up the helm
Of (On) the pirate ship I'm steerin'
Jump into gear and (Droppin' the geran)
Just realize what you're hearin'
The cannon's soundin' (cannon sounded)
That's my companions surroundin' (companion: surrounded)
As my crew comes pounding (bounding)
It's (As) the captain
Afro-america
Whole lotta gattin'
With the loc'ed out latin
Bust that (Busted!)
You're a red beard with a musket
Better duck (talk) quick 'cause ya might get dusted
Your gatt looks rusted, disgusted
Oh look away, look away boy as I rush it
Yes I know that you can't withstand it
Watch that ass cause punk I'll brand it
With my (a) steel-toe, how you feel now
When my boot stuck in that ass like a dildo
Cry on a pillow, weeper that's willow
The Hill got the steel (skill) for the static like brillo
Hmmm, what you talkin' `bout punk
Gimme room as I light up the boom
Cock the hammer, wave the white banner
Ever heard a gun (Glock) go `click' like a camera?
Get paranoid when you hear my Glock clickin'
Speakin' to the punk-ass victim(punk that's tweakin')
With the bitch-ass styles I hit you like Deacon
Jones house, cough without the bones
I rolled ya up and smoked you like bones (cones)
Split the seed and grow you like clones
Don't start-me-up, cause I'm not the Rolling Stones
But I get stoned with a little help from my friends
With the (gubla), then I passed it round back to me again
I can make you famous like Amos
Same as the last punk, when I stuck the gatt up his anus
Hear me growl: Grrra! Howl!
I got the night vision just like the wise old owl
I'm comin' ta fetch ya
Yeah homes I'll wet ya (Yeah home direct ya)
Bury them bones
Under my home and
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
Cock the hammer!
Cock the hammer, it's time for action!
With (Take) my weapon, step into a whole new realm
And step back, as I take up the helm
Of (On) the pirate ship I'm steerin'
Jump into gear and (Droppin' the geran)
Just realize what you're hearin'
The cannon's soundin' (cannon sounded)
That's my companions surroundin' (companion: surrounded)
As my crew comes pounding (bounding)
It's (As) the captain
Afro-america
Whole lotta gattin'
With the loc'ed out latin
Bust that (Busted!)
You're a red beard with a musket
Better duck (talk) quick 'cause ya might get dusted
Your gatt looks rusted, disgusted
Oh look away, look away boy as I rush it
Yes I know that you can't withstand it
Watch that ass cause punk I'll brand it
With my (a) steel-toe, how you feel now
When my boot stuck in that ass like a dildo
Cry on a pillow, weeper that's willow
The Hill got the steel (skill) for the static like brillo
Hmmm, what you talkin' `bout punk
Gimme room as I light up the boom
Cock the hammer, wave the white banner
Ever heard a gun (Glock) go `click' like a camera?
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
3 Lil Putos
One little, two little, three little putos
Tried to jack me they got the boot, oh
Taking no shit when push comes to shove
'Cause the nigga showed me no love
Step back punk 'cause, I'm a Latino
What I bring you is the hardcore lingo
Funky, but ya don't understand
Now I gotta stand with the glock in my hand
No scope and there's no hope
'Cause I'm dishin' out my 4 5 slug and it ain't missin'
Here it comes hissin', here it comes hummin' at ya
Now the slug is comin' at ya
One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
Cuando entro, loonie es el fuerte speakin' to the gente
'Cause I'm insane in the mente
Movin' em back, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
It's no fun, when I got to break you off some
Of the psycobeta beatdown, boy you get done
Serio, here we go off for the muchacho
Come if you really want some of the chingazo
Me caso, you don't hear this little lazo
Cypress Hill, breaking you off a pedazo
Humming at ya, don't make me come gatt ya
Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya
One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
When I come in, kickin' with a vengeance
Swift of the engines, coming like the three little Indians
Stompin' around on the ground on the plains
'Cause a nigga like me, is goin' insane
In the brain, so I gotta maintain my direction
What I mighta gain without my protection
Not a damn thing, so when I come just bring that
New style break ya off like a chicken wing
So you can just suck my cock
Like a fat blunt, stoned is the way of the walk
When I'm peepin', checkin' out the punk ass creepin'
I let the dogs loose then I let the dogs sick 'em
Nigga, don't make me catch ya punk
'Cause I still will be comin' at ya
One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
Tried to jack me they got the boot, oh
Taking no shit when push comes to shove
'Cause the nigga showed me no love
Step back punk 'cause, I'm a Latino
What I bring you is the hardcore lingo
Funky, but ya don't understand
Now I gotta stand with the glock in my hand
No scope and there's no hope
'Cause I'm dishin' out my 4 5 slug and it ain't missin'
Here it comes hissin', here it comes hummin' at ya
Now the slug is comin' at ya
One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
Cuando entro, loonie es el fuerte speakin' to the gente
'Cause I'm insane in the mente
Movin' em back, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
It's no fun, when I got to break you off some
Of the psycobeta beatdown, boy you get done
Serio, here we go off for the muchacho
Come if you really want some of the chingazo
Me caso, you don't hear this little lazo
Cypress Hill, breaking you off a pedazo
Humming at ya, don't make me come gatt ya
Punk 'cause I still will be comin' at ya
One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
When I come in, kickin' with a vengeance
Swift of the engines, coming like the three little Indians
Stompin' around on the ground on the plains
'Cause a nigga like me, is goin' insane
In the brain, so I gotta maintain my direction
What I mighta gain without my protection
Not a damn thing, so when I come just bring that
New style break ya off like a chicken wing
So you can just suck my cock
Like a fat blunt, stoned is the way of the walk
When I'm peepin', checkin' out the punk ass creepin'
I let the dogs loose then I let the dogs sick 'em
Nigga, don't make me catch ya punk
'Cause I still will be comin' at ya
One little two little three hoodlums
Gotta hit the ground 'cause here the slug comes
What do you know, click clack goes the gun
Make 'em run boy, make 'em run boy, make 'em run
Writer: BOBBIE GENTRY, L. PARKER REYES, LARRY MUGGERUD, LAWRENCE KRSONE PARKER, LOUIS M. FREEZE, SCOTT LAROCK
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group
Legalize It
{Marijuana plant is a hemp plant
It's used for many other things than just smokin'
One acre of hemp produces four times as much paper than an acre of trees}
Legalize it
Legalize it
{Pot herb Marijuana}
Legalize it
{Every denomination every color every religion}
Legalize it
{George Washington grew hemp on his farm}
Legalize it
{That is just one twelfth
I have given you all the seed bearing plants on earth to use
(Gotta make legalize)}
It's used for many other things than just smokin'
One acre of hemp produces four times as much paper than an acre of trees}
Legalize it
Legalize it
{Pot herb Marijuana}
Legalize it
{Every denomination every color every religion}
Legalize it
{George Washington grew hemp on his farm}
Legalize it
{That is just one twelfth
I have given you all the seed bearing plants on earth to use
(Gotta make legalize)}
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Pick it, pack it, fire it up, come aloooong
and take hits from the boooong
Put the blunt down just for a second
Don't get me wrong it's not a new method
Inhale, Exhale - just got a ounce in the mail
I like a blunt or a big fat coal
But my double barrel bong is gettin me stoned
I'm skill it, There's water inside don't spill it
It smells like shit on the carpet
Still it, goes down smooth when I get a clean hit
Of the skunky funky smelly green shit
Sing my song, puff all night long
As I take Hits from the bong...
Hits From The Bong y'all
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Let's smoke that bowl, hit the bong
And then take that finger off of that hole
Plug it, unplug it, don't straaaain
I love you Mary Jane
She never complains, when I hit Mary
With that flame, I light up the cherry
She's so good to me, when I pack a fresh bowl I clean the screen
Don't get me stirred up the smoke, through the bub-bling water
Is Makin' it pure so I got ta', take my hit and hold it
Just like Chong, I hit the bowl and I reload it
Get my four-footer and bring it on...
As I take Hits from the bong
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Straighten your dick out...
Can I get a hit? ...
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Hits From The Bong
Pick it, pack it, fire it up, come aloooong
and take hits from the boooong
Put the blunt down just for a second
Don't get me wrong it's not a new method
Inhale, Exhale - just got a ounce in the mail
I like a blunt or a big fat coal
But my double barrel bong is gettin me stoned
I'm skill it, There's water inside don't spill it
It smells like shit on the carpet
Still it, goes down smooth when I get a clean hit
Of the skunky funky smelly green shit
Sing my song, puff all night long
As I take Hits from the bong...
Hits From The Bong y'all
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Let's smoke that bowl, hit the bong
And then take that finger off of that hole
Plug it, unplug it, don't straaaain
I love you Mary Jane
She never complains, when I hit Mary
With that flame, I light up the cherry
She's so good to me, when I pack a fresh bowl I clean the screen
Don't get me stirred up the smoke, through the bub-bling water
Is Makin' it pure so I got ta', take my hit and hold it
Just like Chong, I hit the bowl and I reload it
Get my four-footer and bring it on...
As I take Hits from the bong
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Hits From The Bong
Can I get a hit?
Straighten your dick out...
Can I get a hit? ...
Writer: JOHN HURLEY, RONNIE WILKINS, LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
What Go Around Come Around Kid
Come on come on
(Time for some action)
Yeah yeah
(Time for some action)
Come on come on
(Time for some action)
Yeah yeah
(Time for some action)
Come on come on
Drunk ass fool
Just a punk ass
Gonna cause trouble
Yeah let me burst that bubble
In a hurry
I ain't happy
So worry
What's a judge
And a punk ass jury
Homeboy
Should I'm done to go home
But ya got caught up inside the cyclone
If I go home
I'll get slopped and stoned
When I disconnect that
F*cking neck bone
What a!
Then ya get the kick to jaw kid
And I rip out ya eyelids
So you can see
The head nigga at it
Killa
Commin when I break on the static
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around
Shit
I get real shit
Yo shit
Can ya feel it
Carbon copy come steal it
The gatt I conceal it
Under my jacket
Oh where oh where
Do ya think I pack it
Under my belt
When the cards get dealt
To all the players
And though the punk ass fakers
Just come
And ya get the high pitched humm
Make ya understand where I'm from
The east side brown
Kid looks around
Put's down tump
It must fall down
It's on
When ya want to take my pound
Punk
What go around come around
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
When they come
With the staic cling
It's not thing
Make ya sing the blues
Like B.B. King
I got the roughneck scales
To give awhile
Like a voodoo child
Nuthin but style
Take it
But you can see the black glock clickin
Point my gatt
At the punk ass victims
Step up
Or you can step back
Though the doors
You can bring it on
If ya want to come get yours
But ya betta look ova ya shoulda
'Cause a loss of blood gets the body much colder
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time for some action)
Yeah yeah
(Time for some action)
Come on come on
(Time for some action)
Yeah yeah
(Time for some action)
Come on come on
Drunk ass fool
Just a punk ass
Gonna cause trouble
Yeah let me burst that bubble
In a hurry
I ain't happy
So worry
What's a judge
And a punk ass jury
Homeboy
Should I'm done to go home
But ya got caught up inside the cyclone
If I go home
I'll get slopped and stoned
When I disconnect that
F*cking neck bone
What a!
Then ya get the kick to jaw kid
And I rip out ya eyelids
So you can see
The head nigga at it
Killa
Commin when I break on the static
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around
Shit
I get real shit
Yo shit
Can ya feel it
Carbon copy come steal it
The gatt I conceal it
Under my jacket
Oh where oh where
Do ya think I pack it
Under my belt
When the cards get dealt
To all the players
And though the punk ass fakers
Just come
And ya get the high pitched humm
Make ya understand where I'm from
The east side brown
Kid looks around
Put's down tump
It must fall down
It's on
When ya want to take my pound
Punk
What go around come around
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
When they come
With the staic cling
It's not thing
Make ya sing the blues
Like B.B. King
I got the roughneck scales
To give awhile
Like a voodoo child
Nuthin but style
Take it
But you can see the black glock clickin
Point my gatt
At the punk ass victims
Step up
Or you can step back
Though the doors
You can bring it on
If ya want to come get yours
But ya betta look ova ya shoulda
'Cause a loss of blood gets the body much colder
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around (go around)
What go around come around, kid (go around)
What go around come around
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
(Time, time for some action)
Check me and I'll check you back
Check me and I'll check you back
Writer: LOUIS M FREEZE, LARRY E MUGGERUD, SENEN REYES, ALLEN TOUSSAINT
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
A To The K
Look bib you it heard on the radio
You seen it on the TV show, A to the K
A to the motherf*cking Z
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(To the what?)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
One, life has begun for the roughneck
Kid who was gonna put niggaz in check
Eighteen G's, for the green
Obscene and it's for the time being
I'm pickin' nine, hell I'm out to get mine
And pick two homies, three combine
Next thing you know, jump in the six fo'
Get out, cock the hammer, then kick down the door
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(Motherf*cking K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
Couple niggaz from the east side, headed eastbound
Lookin' for a pound to haul around town
Here comes a clown, I gotta hold my ground
Hear the slug comin' when it come you fall down
Buck down, dead sound that's what you found
That's what you get when you f*ck with the brown
Dog, Sen is comin' to the mound
La Vida from Cypress, rips your compound
Shit gets deep, eight niggaz on the ground
What do you know? what go around come around
Six for the pig and his punk hound
Hail to the King pig or you get crowned
Or better yet I'll roll you up like a fat J
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(Motherf*cking K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
It's gonna be on, it's gonna be on
(It's gonna be on, goin' on)
It's gonna be on, it's gonna be on
(It's gonna be on, goin' on)
It's gonna be on, it's gonna be on
(It's gonna be on, goin' on)
Give me that weed fool and all your loot too
I got a nigga in the back and the blunt for your crew
Loaded and cocked for any hard rock
If you're takin' my weed, I'm takin' over your spot
Keep your face down as I take your pound
Don't let me see nobody get up, just hug the ground
Stay still and don't make a sound
As I get out the door headed eastbound
But why did the fool try to act brave?
(Act brave)
Clip from the nine equals six to the grave
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(Motherf*cking K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
You seen it on the TV show, A to the K
A to the motherf*cking Z
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(To the what?)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
One, life has begun for the roughneck
Kid who was gonna put niggaz in check
Eighteen G's, for the green
Obscene and it's for the time being
I'm pickin' nine, hell I'm out to get mine
And pick two homies, three combine
Next thing you know, jump in the six fo'
Get out, cock the hammer, then kick down the door
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(Motherf*cking K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
Couple niggaz from the east side, headed eastbound
Lookin' for a pound to haul around town
Here comes a clown, I gotta hold my ground
Hear the slug comin' when it come you fall down
Buck down, dead sound that's what you found
That's what you get when you f*ck with the brown
Dog, Sen is comin' to the mound
La Vida from Cypress, rips your compound
Shit gets deep, eight niggaz on the ground
What do you know? what go around come around
Six for the pig and his punk hound
Hail to the King pig or you get crowned
Or better yet I'll roll you up like a fat J
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(Motherf*cking K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
It's gonna be on, it's gonna be on
(It's gonna be on, goin' on)
It's gonna be on, it's gonna be on
(It's gonna be on, goin' on)
It's gonna be on, it's gonna be on
(It's gonna be on, goin' on)
Give me that weed fool and all your loot too
I got a nigga in the back and the blunt for your crew
Loaded and cocked for any hard rock
If you're takin' my weed, I'm takin' over your spot
Keep your face down as I take your pound
Don't let me see nobody get up, just hug the ground
Stay still and don't make a sound
As I get out the door headed eastbound
But why did the fool try to act brave?
(Act brave)
Clip from the nine equals six to the grave
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(Motherf*cking K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
(A to the K)
A to the motherf*cking K homeboy
A to the motherf*cking K
Writer: LOUIS FREEZE, LARRY MUGGERUD, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, FOX MUSIC, INC.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, FOX MUSIC, INC.
Hand On The Glock
cypress hill
cypress hill
cypress hill
Crusing through the neighborhood
Some say I'm no good
Claimin I'm a criminal
But lets make it understood
Just one man man with a whole lot of homeboys (whole lot)
Ya get the click of the glock
When I pull of the chrome toy
Check me and I'll check you back (check you back)
Then jump back
to my big Buddah
like I'm not a bad guy
But don't take advantage
I'm throwin out the garbage
just show me where the can is
All I was doin was searchin for the boon
Then some punk tried to hit me with a broom
Lucky I ducked quick
Or else I'd be assed up
Last thing I wanted
was have to pull the gatt out
here comes a nigga
And he's got a .38
Well my roundhouse said
hey yo
I'm shootin up straight
Cuz I put away the shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Couple niggas from the east side
f*ckin up ya program
No one witnissed
But they heard the gun blast
It left the problem unsolved
now I'm gonna sum up
people gettin hurt in the process of the come up
Gotta with the fools
That'll wait for you to run up
Rollin in the hood
That's already shot up
Pocket full of gatts
And see if we can spot the
Homey that's slick
In the process of the dip
When we find this out
Gonna unload the clip!
And take a little trip down to Rio
My neighboorhood's hot and so
I gots to go chill
Cuz I put away the shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Kickin' that funky Cypress Hill shit
Think I'll load a clip
Lets see if you can deal with
Cuz the bulletproof vest ain't shit
When the infrared's
pointin at your head kid
And that's just to bad yo
Now I'm headed up a river in a boat
with no paddle
Shoulda put the glock down (glock down)
Now they got me in lock down
livin' like a nigga whose done lost his mind
Cuz self defense turns to the offense
But nobody even really knows that (knows that)
All they see is me and the gatt
Up in the court room
Lookin at the jury
Starin down the punk ass
district attourney
la-la-la-la-lala-la!
Verdict's in
You're not guilty as charged
When I put away my shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
(cypress hill...)
cypress hill
cypress hill
Crusing through the neighborhood
Some say I'm no good
Claimin I'm a criminal
But lets make it understood
Just one man man with a whole lot of homeboys (whole lot)
Ya get the click of the glock
When I pull of the chrome toy
Check me and I'll check you back (check you back)
Then jump back
to my big Buddah
like I'm not a bad guy
But don't take advantage
I'm throwin out the garbage
just show me where the can is
All I was doin was searchin for the boon
Then some punk tried to hit me with a broom
Lucky I ducked quick
Or else I'd be assed up
Last thing I wanted
was have to pull the gatt out
here comes a nigga
And he's got a .38
Well my roundhouse said
hey yo
I'm shootin up straight
Cuz I put away the shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Couple niggas from the east side
f*ckin up ya program
No one witnissed
But they heard the gun blast
It left the problem unsolved
now I'm gonna sum up
people gettin hurt in the process of the come up
Gotta with the fools
That'll wait for you to run up
Rollin in the hood
That's already shot up
Pocket full of gatts
And see if we can spot the
Homey that's slick
In the process of the dip
When we find this out
Gonna unload the clip!
And take a little trip down to Rio
My neighboorhood's hot and so
I gots to go chill
Cuz I put away the shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Kickin' that funky Cypress Hill shit
Think I'll load a clip
Lets see if you can deal with
Cuz the bulletproof vest ain't shit
When the infrared's
pointin at your head kid
And that's just to bad yo
Now I'm headed up a river in a boat
with no paddle
Shoulda put the glock down (glock down)
Now they got me in lock down
livin' like a nigga whose done lost his mind
Cuz self defense turns to the offense
But nobody even really knows that (knows that)
All they see is me and the gatt
Up in the court room
Lookin at the jury
Starin down the punk ass
district attourney
la-la-la-la-lala-la!
Verdict's in
You're not guilty as charged
When I put away my shotgun
borrow me a glock
Took a liitle trip to the funky weed spot
tried to jack me
but home got shot
la-la-la-lalala-la!
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
Understand where I'm commin from
Self defense turns to the offense
(right, were down, were down)
(cypress hill...)
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Break Em Off Some
This one goes out to all you punk motherf*ckers out there
Yeah, eat a bowl of dick'up fools!
Do ya wanna get crazy?
Comin' atcha in '93!
Through the car swings
The firing pins go click
When I duck behind the trash bin
Ran out of ammo no doubt my gatt is dry like a f*ckin' drought
Got to make my way home
Hit the gate and get my chrome goddamn this song
They got me cornered lemme just warn ya
I'll pull this trigga make your family mourn ya
Boo-hoo! Where ya gonna run to when I pull out the Scooby Do
Run let me break ya off some, hit the floor 'coz it ain't no fun
But here they come, they must wanna get done
No frontin' punk, I'll break ya off somethin!
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
What the f*ck I'm rollin'?
In a Mack truck that's stolen, guess what I'm holdin'?
Ammo to bust my load still I'm easin' on down
The yellow brick road
Whatta ya know?
A pig in a plain brown wrapper, he wanna bring me down
I'll hit that corner, lemme just warn ya
I'll bring ya ass down, make ya family mourn ya
21 gun salute, trying to take my loot
Don't make me shoot
I'll hit my blunt and pass you a load
And punk, let me break ya of something
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
I got to roll with the self control
In the green tank when the shit unfolds
Hold up, I got it sewn up
Me and my niggas are about to blow up
Got the pigs on my tail
What they get is the hollow point shell, caught in the sail
Servin' my sentence, got my apprentice in the hood
But the nigga is senseless
Out on parole
Now the nigga has turned to my fold, now the punk gotta go
That punk got shady, wouldn't repay me
Let the punk know that ya still can't fade me
Maybe the f*cker would stop
But nothin' would stop me from havin' to break 'em off something
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
...
Yeah, eat a bowl of dick'up fools!
Do ya wanna get crazy?
Comin' atcha in '93!
Through the car swings
The firing pins go click
When I duck behind the trash bin
Ran out of ammo no doubt my gatt is dry like a f*ckin' drought
Got to make my way home
Hit the gate and get my chrome goddamn this song
They got me cornered lemme just warn ya
I'll pull this trigga make your family mourn ya
Boo-hoo! Where ya gonna run to when I pull out the Scooby Do
Run let me break ya off some, hit the floor 'coz it ain't no fun
But here they come, they must wanna get done
No frontin' punk, I'll break ya off somethin!
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
What the f*ck I'm rollin'?
In a Mack truck that's stolen, guess what I'm holdin'?
Ammo to bust my load still I'm easin' on down
The yellow brick road
Whatta ya know?
A pig in a plain brown wrapper, he wanna bring me down
I'll hit that corner, lemme just warn ya
I'll bring ya ass down, make ya family mourn ya
21 gun salute, trying to take my loot
Don't make me shoot
I'll hit my blunt and pass you a load
And punk, let me break ya of something
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
I got to roll with the self control
In the green tank when the shit unfolds
Hold up, I got it sewn up
Me and my niggas are about to blow up
Got the pigs on my tail
What they get is the hollow point shell, caught in the sail
Servin' my sentence, got my apprentice in the hood
But the nigga is senseless
Out on parole
Now the nigga has turned to my fold, now the punk gotta go
That punk got shady, wouldn't repay me
Let the punk know that ya still can't fade me
Maybe the f*cker would stop
But nothin' would stop me from havin' to break 'em off something
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
Break 'em off some
...
Writer: JOSEF ERICH ZAWINUL, LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Black Sunday is the second studio album by American hip hop group Cypress Hill. It was released on July 20, 1993, by Ruffhouse and Columbia Records. The album proved to be a massive success just like their debut, Cypress Hill. The album debuted at #1 on the US Billboard 200, selling 261,000 copies in its first week of sales and became the highest Soundscan recording for a hip hop group at the time. Also, with their previous album, Cypress Hill, still in the charts, they became the first hip hop group ever to have 2 albums in the Top 10 of the U.S. Billboard 200 at the same time. The album went four-times platinum in the U.S. with 3.4 million units sold.
As Cypress Hill advocates for medical and recreational use of cannabis, the booklet of the album contains 19 facts about the history of hemp and the positive attributes of cannabis.
Performed By:
Cypress HillAs Cypress Hill advocates for medical and recreational use of cannabis, the booklet of the album contains 19 facts about the history of hemp and the positive attributes of cannabis.
Genre(s): West Coast hip hop, Latin hip hop, alternative hip hop, hardcore hip hop
Producer(s): DJ Muggs, T-Ray
Length: 43:38
Released: July 20th, 1993
Year: 1993