Cypress Hill Lyrics

Album: Unknown

Southland Killaz Ft. Mcren & King Tee Lyrics

[Intro: MC Ren]

 

 Yeah, y'all know what the fuck this is

 MC motherfuckin' Ren up in this bitch nigga

 Yeah, all y'all bitch-ass niggas out here talkin all that shit

 We 'bout to drop this motherfucker on y'all like this [gun being loaded]

 Punk ass niggas out here, nigga

 We some Southland Killers in this motherfucker [gun is cocked]

 [GUNSHOT]

 

 [MC Ren]

 Niggas all acrosss town, up in the suburbs

 While niggas makin' faces like The Rock on the curb 

 Nigga People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold 

 And groupie niggas bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?)

 Big-ass cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's)

 And hoes wit' big lips doin' what they suposed (yeah)

 Didn't have shit 'till I started to bust

 And y'all got shit 'cos of my balls are cussed

 Ren and Cypress Hill, they ain't liver than us 

 Nigga Legendary Villian, who started the fuss

 Nigga double glock, cocked, get your shit rocked

 Get your crib knocked, nigga have that rib popped

 Under bosses and trouble, they under my rubble

 Clone motherfuckers, always the villain, like The Hubble

 Fuck your bubble, I bust them shits

 Plaques and shit, grab my dick, spit these hits 

 

 [Chorus: B-Real]

 

 All, my niggas, do you wanna ride wit' us? 

 (Do ya wanna ride wit us?) (Killers!) 

 Throw your clips up, man we's about to bust 

 (Man we's about to bust) (Killers!)

 Cy-press, Hill click, yeah we ready for war 

 (Yeah we ready for war) (Killers!)

 All y'all niggas, better just hit the floor 

 (Killers!)

 

 [King Tee]

 I'm close to the best thing, on the West Wing

 Blown out your set, flames when the best sing

 It's a rep thing, haters feel they chest pain

 They feel it in they heart, I was there to test things

 Didn't arrest (?), the bullet-proof vest team

 These niggas shoot first they they askin (?) names

 It's less strain 

 It's all real, I bet fame, it's a chess game

 Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right) 

 I might sound funny out here 

 But really, niggas get money out here 

 And hey, everyday is sunny out here

 So listen, don't play dummy out here

 King try for bust make your whole pack run

 Stacked enough cash so now I stack guns

 Fat ones, all cold and black ones 

 Southland Killin', it's just how that's done 

 

 [Chorus]

 

 [Sen Dog and B-Real]

 You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill

 but when your shit (?) is when die on the Hill

 We get, hot on the heel, rely on the steel

 When your paper gets pulled and you design is steeled

 Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will

 [Sen Dog] BUSTERS GET SLAYED...!

 

 [B-Real]

 ...when you fuck around with Real

 Take time to feel, what I'm tellin' you hoes (Tellin' you hoes)

 You couldn't fuck around with me if I was sellin' you blows

 Just goes to show the incredible skill tell

 Bitch nigga, now you trapped under my wig well

 Gettin trampled, DUMPED on and thumped on

 Scraped on the six-five with the HAND ON THE PUMP SONG

 

 [Sen Dog]

 Don't even fuck with these Southland grandes

 We the vatos that run on Los Angeles

 Call me Mad Dog, if you think you know me

 If you're not sure then turn around and LEAVE SLOWLY!

 

 [Chorus]