Versuri Red, Meth & B

 
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 kennel 
A dog on four paws spittin' out the window 
Jump up! It aint no need to fight 
We may squeeze the pipe, you gonna bleed tonight 
I eat beans and rice, shit up a storm 
I walk the streets with shark fin off my arms 
Doctor Dolittle, lit off the bone 
My bracelet like I raised it off the farm 
Home-grown, thick, dirty  
My family feud dudes who pack 2's on survey 
Jersey and house  
Gun like an elephants snout 
Pull ya ambulance out 
Ya whole team'll get bombarded 
Ya on target, and bombed by some unsigned artists 
We leave ya hair cut like a blind barber 
Cut it, and gave you a line with fine markers 
I won't leave till the job is done 
Till the last prick nigga take ya wallet, RUN 
Doc with the shotty and we both catch a body with Cypress Hill 
Yeah! 
 
[Chorus: B-Real] 
We don't give a fuck, we live it up till the day we die 
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high 
You won't be real with us, but ya reelin' us and you want to ride 
You try to deal with us, but you got no blunts to get high 
 
[Method Man] 
Yo, yo 
Blunt smokin', half a bottle of remi open 
You either holdin' or half-assed like Simmy Colan 
I 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 thick 
Ever since you hit, yo my new chicks a new bitch 
Ya know if I can't eat, ya can't sleep 
Plus I'm in denial, I just can't admit defeat 
My mind is my glock, keep my third eye cocked 
Bust mines off tops, leave a rapper's nerves shocked 
Now who's hot and who's not 
I want them rocks and that money in ya two socks  
Meth the mister, if crime is an art, then let me paint a picture 
I'm gone, Kodak can't even frame the riddler 
Gold realin', Meth, doc, Cypress Hiller 
Whoever 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 athletes 
Run a track meet, the rhymes on ya rap sheet 
With the foot long crush bong, look your collapsing, sicko 
They go on the break-off, mental breakdown and shit you wouldn't think of 
I spread it to Reggie, chances are better but deadly 
You wanna be friendly on the get high Bentley 
You twisted up, burnt out within seconds 
Cos you couldn't hang with the John Blaze methods 
Bong hittin', doc spittin', shark bitten  
Star stricken, glock clickin', stop shittin' 
Inhale the smoke from the master's lungs 
You wanna roll up, yo I'm the fastest one (ha!) 
You wanna test with the sess, well first off 
That shit is funny like Kid Rock with his shirt off 
 
[Chorus X2]