Текст песни Tony Touch f Cypress Hill - U Know the Rules (Mi Vida Loca)
Tony Touch f Cypress Hill - U Know the Rules (Mi Vida Loca) слова песни
[Tony Touch]Well it`s the alley cat, puffin on a hoody mackSome say I`m a titere, but yo I ain`t all of thatHit you wit a baseball bat if you try to ill thoughFuck around you get bucked on the hill broMr. Tony Toca, rollin wit the jokerEast L.A. to Bushwick, cosa nostraBring it to you bitch ass clicks like we supposedCypress Hill in full effect wit the motaAin`t nuthin changed but the date, so fuck wit jakeExpect me to cut the cake, it`s much to lateI`m takin it all, send you to the back of the lineBreakin you off, watchin you react to the rhymeMe packin the nine, nah that`s a whole other gameCuz if I`m forced to pull out, I`mma blow out ya brainYo, what we feel, never go wit the grainIt`s Tony Touch and B-Real still goin insane[Chorus 2X]Mi Vida Loca, get blastMoney moves, you snooze you loosePunk nigga, you know the rulesWe strike first, we hit hard, no regardAnd move weight, international, state to state[B-Real]Maginifico, here we go, me and Tony TocaMy name ain`t Ricky but I`m livin the vida locaSerial rhyme killa, the paper spinnerEatin the pussy sup, havin you for dinnerLike a fur tinner, makin you loose it over the years like a winnerI can`t abuse like a picketer, I send it a flow, control temperWe into the party, wit bounce and yo go get yaAll this other shit don`t really matterI`d rather be open your grave, relivin my bladderAin`t nothin sadder, the Mad HatterMake a fine cheddar, keep climbin the ladderYou try follow after, I`m sorry to shatter your dreamSplatter your spleens, scatter your teamsBad as it seems, niggas will follow the beamMoney cream, funny things, happen when you runnin things[Chorus 2X][B-Real]Time to put a little pressure, but the addresserYou get no lesser, microphone finesserRhymes go like pressure, and listen neverWhether you gather to go, never become richerKeep the punk nigga bitch upPain change like a woman ass switch upYou rhyme on the mic like you ate a dick upMouth full, blown talk, not to hiccupPick up your brain off the ground wit the vacuum cleanerLife`s a bitch like Elliott MisdemeanorI have you ass up wit the sharp cleaver, thru the receiverSpot it like rhyme weaver, follow the leaderShit`s off the fuckin meter, drum beaterSide reader, while we puffin the cold `hebba[Chorus .6X][Tony Touch]Yeah Mr. Cocotasso, hit you wit a basoSay hello to my little friend, posa casoTato, now that`s all she wroteMuthafuckas think I fell for the okie dokeBut you can quote me loke, cuz the joke`s on youSoul Assassins in the house, you better hold on toNow you can watch these rap niggas just roll on throughOr you can get up and get involved it`s on youU know the rules