your mind now Cypress Hill compound, you could hear the sound Let another motherfucker run up and I'll put your ass down Then I'll peal from your cap the Cypress
(Sen Dog) Don't let nobody treat me like crap I'm pullin heads off sharp and smack em off francs The best in these days I smoke on these tracks Gonna
I lost my innocence at birth but I make no excuses For the trivial things and the pain life induces Bitches are wild and so was I, young and stupid It
Refugee camp with Cypress Hill (Yo, bringin' it on) Cubans meet the Haitians Perfect combination, check it You say guns I say pistolas Well, if you got
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,
Break it up, Cypress Hill Break it up, Cypress Break it up, Cypress Hill Cypress Hill! ...
Refugee camp, with Cypress Hill Yo, bringin' it on Cubans meet the Haitians Perfect combination, check it You say guns, I say pistolas Well, if you got
I'm not the sissy I'm stiff to neutral brother, and I'm born to get busy Let us start to freak you and we'll make you feel alright When you come to Cypress
Well, here's a little story, I got to tell About a thugged out homey, I know so well It started way back, when I was a teen In the hood, on the corner
Hell nah, you can't handle a man of my superior strength I've been rockin' for years, now it's time to go to length Bitin' emcees in their tracks I stop
Handle it, handle it You know, motherfuckers need to have some weed etiquette True, true You see, motherfuckers try to come up and bogard your weed At
[B-Real] Watch me attack the brain with dope lyrics The broadcast worldwide don't can't you hear it Everywhere you look around nothin' but soldiers Sickside
Ese rollin', if you got it, pass it to the margin If you want it greedy, come and get it Aiyyo, we got it, Cypress, Cannibus Seeteeva, fuckin' freak of
I was an outcast, outsider, trouble maker A lost soul, outta control, in danger Didn't have a care in the world, my feelings were numb Never showin' emotion
This one goes out to all you punk motherfuckers out there Yeah, eat a bowl of dick'up fools! Do ya wanna get crazy? Comin' atcha in '93! Through the
Call me the serial rhyme killer Mic cord strangling, mangling, tangling, you in the web, nigga Your head is dangling off of your shoulders 'Cause my mic
my hand on the pump Still got the boss to go nutty on you punks I don't wanna be the King of the Sing Just a Soul Assassin for the Cypress Team I rhyme
Motherfucker with one little single Three or four cammie's under your belt One good game gonna put you in the hall of fame Motherfucker, nahmean? Got