Spark another owl
Throw your set in the air
Stoned raiders
Illusions
Killa hill niggas'
Boom biddy bye bye
No rest for the wicked
Make a move
Killafornia
Funk freakers
Locotes
Red light visions
Strictly hip hop
Let it rain
Everybody must get stoned

Spark Another Owl

 
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.
 

Throw your set in the air

 
 [Whispered]
"Who there, who there."
"Ask that little young maybe here man.  I got all fuck goin' on everyday,
what you want man?"

"Hey what's up O.G. showtime man?
"What's up homes."
"Hey man, I've been thinkin' man an' I'm-"
"Been thinkin' about what."
"Hey I'm ready to get put down on this set."
"You ready to get put down on this set?"
"I'm ready to represent shit"
"On this one right here?"
"Yes baby."
"You ready to die for this?"
"I'm ready to die for this nigga."
"What you ready to do ni'"
"An' I'm ready to put in."
"What you [Whack]ready to do!  You ready to [Whack]GET yeah!  GET IT!  GET
IT!  [Slap!]Hmmm get it!  Yeah.  Hit 'im!  What set you from now, huh?
Word.  What set you from..."

Every nigga out there wanna be down with our crew
Some ain't got enough heart let me ask you
This:  Would you be down like a soldier
Loyal
An' do everything I told ya
I can mold ya
Into a warrior
Down for you neighborhood
Glockin' out, do a G with the flavor
Criminal behavior
On the mind
When I got your back
You know I got your back
Each and every time

Throw your set in the air
Come on!
Wave it around like you just don't care
Throw your set in the air
Throw it up homes!
Wave it around like you just don't care

It's time to exit that buster nigga
Get your hands out you pockets and your finger
On the trigger
Lead will fly
We don't die
We multiply
Throw your set up in the sky
I asked you kid
'Cause you can't fuck with this
Nigga, when I got the Glock
Ya better duck quick
'Cause I ain't havin' it
If ya got your gatt
You better start grabbin' it
I can handle it
Soy numero uno
Mero mero
You know I run with Muggs and the Perro
Firin' up that heater
When I'm givin' up my set I got my nina-millametre
Los Scandalous, Killafornia: where I'm from
Dum diddy dum, diddy diddy dum dum
I'm workin' on your ass
Now you know where I'm from
Dum diddy dum, diddy diddy dum dum

Throw your set in the air
Come on!
Wave it around like you just don't care
Throw your set in the air
Throw it up!
Wave it around like you just don't care

Throw your set in the air
Throw up your hood homes!
Wave it around like you just don't care
Come, come on!
Throw your set in the air
Give it up!
Wave it around like you just don't care

"Nigga throw your set in the air, nigga you know what I'm sayin', you
scared, you be takin' your mothafuckin' punk ass to church, 'cause where
I'm from nigga on the East side, every mothafuckin' day is a job, nigga.
You gotta handle your business, because if you don't, your mothafuckin'
gatt will get peeled back!  And that ain't no bullshit.  If you wanna test
it nigga, bring it on nigga, you know what I'm sayin'.  Throw your
mothafuckin' set up in the air."

Let me take you to the dark side of the moon
Tell Mama that you won't be comin' home anytime soon
'Cause I got ya under my thumb nigga
What's that you claimin'?
Better 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 diddy dum, diddy diddy dum dum

Throw your set in the air
Come on!
Wave it around like you just don't care
Throw your set in the air
Throw it up!
Wave it around like you just don't care

Throw your set in the air
Throw your hood up!
Wave it around like you just don't care
Throw your set in the air
Get it up!
Wave it around like you just don't care

"Yeah, that's right.  We're straight givin' up the hood all day fool.
Cypress Hill mo'fucker what you wanna do?  Ah huh.  Givin' my shit up in
your FACE fool!"
 
 

Stoned raiders

 
 [From The Exorcist]
"Guilty... before almighty god.  Guilty... before his son.  Guilty, before
the whole human race.  It's the lord who expels you... he who is coming to
judge you... of the living and the dead.  God himself who commends you..."

1 for the 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 ya thumpin' so hard
Up and down the boulevard
I'm a natural born cap peela
Strap illa
On the west coast settin' it off, no one's reala
Get ya fix of the uncut
Funk
A small dose of the skunk
Weed
Like it's supposed to be
Move it out
Just move it on out
What ya talkin' 'bout
Son I took the first shot
And it's all over now
One nation Buddha groove
Smoke a pound for the sake of it
Every time I make a move
Smooth and togetha
Raw like leatha
Ain't goin' out like a punk neva

Check it out: one two
Cypress crew

Check it out: one two
Cypress crew

It's the numba one money maka
Money take a
Few steps back, I'm on a plane to Jamaica (Hey mon)
Puffin' on a fat wada, tough shit
For the fool takin' a vow, I got the rough shit
Hard rock
Bone breaka
Stoned Raider in the Temple of Boom
It's safe to assume
Led 'll be lettin' shit slidin' away
Bitch niggas can hide
But I'll find they ass some day

Check it out: one two
Cypress crew
So what you wanna do

Wherever you are
Put ya muthafuckin' spliff in the air
Sound off like you got a care
When I kick to the metro
Lone clip
Be lookin' around, 'cause this shit
Ain't over wit' yet
People can't understand my situation
Now they're caught up in a Soul Assassination
Fool just take cover
It's all over
When I break ya off a chunk o' this mothafucka

Check it out: one two
Cypress crew
What you wanna do
Come on

Check it out: one two
Cypress crew
What you wanna do
Come on

"Yeah you mothafucka, check this shit out.  All us crazy-ass niggas.  That's
our crew: Cypress.  Nick Shea, Reg Dog, Skunk Man, Cap'n, that nigga Mark,
Rick Red, Sen-Dog.  Check this out: Pete Young, that big nigga C.C.
There's more niggas: Big O.G. got crazy with a school-boy, Ralph M., that
nigga Pete Mark..."
 
 

Illusions

 
"Aw man wake up... ' fuck is goin' on?"
"Shit"
"Oh shit I can't wake up nigga..."
"Oh shit, what the fuck's goin' on? Can't keep these voices out o' my head"
"You messin' with the wrong nigga this time."
"Fucked up... aw shit."

Some people tell me that I need help
Some people can fuck off and go to hell
Goddamn 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 gatt to my money and I'm hooked on chronic
I never wanted to hurt a nigga
Unless ya come flexin' that trigga
I'll dig ya
That grave on the east side of town
Now you're six feet underground
From man, to the dust to the ashes
All I remember tell me where the cash is
Click clack, barrel at my dome
Give all your loot or you ain't going home
But I ain't going out wit' a bang
Wa dada dang, wa dada daa dang

Chorus:

I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside
                        I'm havin' illusions
I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind
                        I'm havin' illusions
I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside
                        I'm havin' illusions
I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind
                        I'm havin' illusions

Muthafuckas be drivin' me up the walls
Hopin' that I fall but they can lick my balls
Straight jacket
Strap it
In the padded room where some punk niggas 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 got 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

Chorus:

I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside
                        I'm havin' illusions
I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's fuckin' me up in my mind
                        I'm havin' illusions
I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's drivin' me mad inside
                        I'm havin' illusions
I'm havin' illusions, all of this confusion's 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
I'm havin' illusions
 
 

Killa hill niggas'

 
 [Capitan Pingaloca]
"Esto no me gusta.  Aqui la gente, la gente no sirve pa' mierda.  Aqui yo
soy, yo soy Capitan Pingaloca.  Y to' mundo aqui, me sirve a mi o va pa'l
carajo.  Oye... revolucion compadre!"

[B-Real]
In the midst of the madness
No question, who's the baddest
MCs in the game runnin for the status
Take a few seconds to review the crews
Sittin' on top is the Hill lookin' over you
Killa Hill Niggas
Cleaned in my dream
Cookin' up a scheme
For all them big bank niggas
The world is yours, but it can be mine and his
Bust you out the frame, I don't give a fuck who it is
Number one mission, opposition
Get dumb, succumb and then position
In a casket, best wishes
At the bottom of the lake, sleepin' with the fishes
Full out search for the body
Of the MCs who be comin' to disrupt the party
No wins, no ends, no way
That I'm ever gonna let ya come back again!

[Rakeem]
Check my dramatics
Brains get splattered
Dreams shattered
Sabas get blasted for words he packaged
Beat the sequence
Bravado lessons on his defense
Pile you niggas talkin' fast like Puerto Ricans
What you seekin'
Son I catch clean like Dominicans
Last Mohican
Lyrics are speakin'
Wireless idiots, Tomahawk
Shaolin slang, the violent talk
Upstate New York
Where chumps get extorted for Newports
What you thought

[B-Real]
Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger
Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
The' the' the' then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger
Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
Ease back, ease back
Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger
Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again

[Capitan Pingaloca]
"Y ya esta dicho.  Todos los que no les guste mi 'rebote' van a morir.
Yo le voy a meter una bala a la cabeza a cualquier maricon, que no me
persiga a mi a la 'singadapuerta'.  Oye, hijo puta!  Quiero quemarte la
cara!"

[U-God]
Words droppin' chant
The check DI slant
I'm taking these cannabis plants
Yo for granted
Exotic narcotic
Tunes slam soon
From a dune
In the desert
Mega-Babylon pleasure
Comin' out the domepiece, smell my aroma
Warrior nomad
Put you in a coma
Comma
Llama
Smash-crashin' your armor
Drama
I'm a
Stealth aircraft bomber
Here is where I dwell
At the gates o' hell
It ain't where you're from
It's where you're in the mentals
And if not, yo' credentials
Are essential
I see reality
View things surrounding me
Free like a spread, precise strikes the lyric
Not frontin' or braggin'
Hundred percent red dragon
Pine fragranced lyrics, the rhymes you can't imagine
The Globe-Trotter, call me Meadowlark Lemon
Five part criminal, two part felon

[B-Real]
Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
The' the' the' then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger
The' then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger
Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
Ease,
Ease back
Ease back, ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger
Then I'm never gonna let ya come back again
Ease back or I squeeze up on the trigger

[Capitan Pingaloca]
"Esta dicho!  Aqui, la revelacion!  No se la ve por television.  Todos los
maricones del norte, que los voy a matar yo.  Va a ser aqui en nuestro
pais.  Y todos los 'singamasones', que estan singando un mundo.  Tambien,
van a ver la muerte de ellos mismos, lo en las manos de ellos.  Un dia,
va a ser sangre, mucha sangre.  La peste de los cuerpos muertos, vas a oir,
que se va a hueler.  Hasta los Estados Unidos, estos cabrones, que con la
democracia, que nos 'tan singando en el culo.  Todos son unos mismos
cabrones..."
 
 
 

Boom biddy bye bye

 
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 puta 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 talk 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
 
 

No rest for the wicked

 
"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! [Background]: `Turn that shit up louder!'
What's up with that shit?  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 himself

"Yeah nigga, my homie thought he had a homie in you.  He let you listen to
our muthafuckin' 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 dig
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
Lynch Mob is a friend of mine
But you talked about them niggaz from behind
You know what the hossack 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 mothafuckin' 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."
 
 

Make a movie

 
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."
 
 

Killafornia

 
[B-Real]
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

[Hustlers]
--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

[B-real]
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?

[Hustlers]
--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!

[B-Real]
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

[Hustlers]
--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"
 
 

Funk Freakers

 
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]
 
 

Locotes

 
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
 
 

Red Light Visions

 
[Sen Dog]
"(Inhales) Break that shit off nigga"

[B-Real]
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"

[B-Real]
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!"
 
 

Strictly Hip-Hop

 
[B-Real]:
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,

[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 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
 
 

Let it rain

 
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
Uggh!  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 hootah

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
 
 

Everybody Must Get Stoned

 
"This sure is. I got data on crazy shit for round the corner you know
The homeboys and the brothers be slangin' this shit
But anyway, (everybody must get stoned (x4))
You over there singin' some shit, talkin' 'bout
Everybody must get stoned
I don't know but that shit sounds good to me"

[Verse 1]
Hit the joint, up the bomb, take a puff
Till you just can't get enough
Of the sunk a punk
Pick an endo, wanna take control
But the primaso puff on the endo (keep puffin')
Let me take it in then I let it out (let it out)
One of you motherfuckers pass the barred owl
Peace to the niggaz in all the Budha spots
Slangin' fat bags o' weed and runnin from the cops
(runnin' from them fools)
I hit the leno then pass it on
To the cypha' of dreadlocks gettin' stoned
(All the dreadlocks lya')
>From the fat joint twisted at the end
'Cos I get high with a little help from my friends (from my friends)

[Chorus]
Everybody must get stoned
I said everybody must get stoned
(Everybody must get stoned)*variations*
                   (x4)

[Verse 2]
Hit the blunt of the bong, take your dope
Now my head's in a cloud of smoke and no joke
Called 'the uptight', motherfuckers puttin' me down
'Cos I talk about the green shit in every town (Everywhere I go)
You right in front of me, I can't see ya
I'm blind and faded and I get the G-rock
And everything's gonna be alright
When I pass that toochi from the left-hand side
Niggaz is havin' a good time tonight
Roll it up, hold it up, pass me the fucking light
(Gimme that lighter) Indoor on the home-grown
Light it up, everybody must get stoned (gotta get stoned)

(Chorus-different variations)

You know how we talkin' to talk
We say, stoned is the way of the walk (x4)

(Chorus till fade)

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