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Cypress Hill

Red, Meth & B

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  rapcore  alternative
1,354 3 часа назад

Текст песни Cypress Hill - Red, Meth & B

Cypress Hill - Red, Meth & B слова песни

Y`all ready for this?Ha! I don`t think so!Yeah! Oh, listen to this!We gonna come at ya![Redman]Cypress Hill!Yo yo yo - all my niggas say jump up, doc broke out the kennelA dog on four paws spittin` out the windowJump up! It aint no need to fightWe may squeeze the pipe, you gonna bleed tonightI eat beans and rice, shit up a stormI walk the streets with shark fin off my armsDoctor Dolittle, lit off the boneMy bracelet like I raised it off the farmHome-grown, thick, dirty My family feud dudes who pack 2`s on surveyJersey and house Gun like an elephants snoutPull ya ambulance outYa whole team`ll get bombardedYa on target, and bombed by some unsigned artistsWe leave ya hair cut like a blind barberCut it, and gave you a line with fine markersI won`t leave till the job is doneTill the last prick nigga take ya wallet, RUNDoc with the shotty and we both catch a body with Cypress HillYeah!(Chorus: B-Real)We don`t give a fuck, we live it up till the day we dieYou try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get highYou won`t be real with us, but ya reelin` us and you want to rideYou try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high[Method Man]Yo, yoBlunt smokin`, half a bottle of remi openYou either holdin` or half-assed like semi-colonI leave ya chokin` on them lollipop rhymes ya callin`So hard, hell I crack the shell on ya candy coatin`If the shoes fit like Alan I be too thickEver since you hit, yo my new chicks a new bitchYa know if I can`t eat, ya can`t sleepPlus I`m in denial, I just can`t admit defeatMy mind is my glock, keep my third eye cockedBust mines off tops, leave a rapper`s nerves shockedNow who`s hot and who`s notI want them rocks and that money in ya two socks Meth the mister, if crime is an art, then let me paint a pictureI`m gone, Kodak can`t even frame the riddlerGold realin`, Meth, doc, Cypress HillerWhoever think they fuckin` with that, lets be realer(Chorus)[B-Real]Take the back seat and smash beats Smoke blunts through ya lungs and flips ya brain cells like athletesRun a track meet, the rhymes on ya rap sheetWith the foot long crush bong, look your collapsing, sickoThey go on the break-off, mental breakdown and shit you wouldn`t think ofI spread it to Reggie, chances are better but deadlyYou wanna be friendly on the get high BentleyYou twisted up, burnt out within secondsCos you couldn`t hang with the John Blaze methodsBong hittin`, doc spittin`, shark bitten Star stricken, glock clickin`, stop shittin`Inhale the smoke from the master`s lungsYou wanna roll up, yo I`m the fastest one (ha!)You wanna test with the sess, well first offThat shit is funny like Kid Rock with his shirt off(Chorus) X2

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