- Lyrics
- Album list
- Singer Intro
Cypress Hill
-
Prelude to a Come Up
Lyricist:Erik Klaus Ebert, Mc Eiht, Louis M. Freeze, Jamal Grinnage, A Johnson, Albert Johnson, Christopher Karrer, Peter Leopold, Frank Malave, Mc Eiht, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Lawrence Muggerud, Eric Murray, N Wilson, Nathaniel Wilson, Stefan Zauner
Geeyeah, Soul Assassins two times, stick 'em Geeyeah, Cypress Hill three times, come on Geeyeah
Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin' Cross the seven seas eased, clockin' much conversation Penetration, you know we gets busy, no hesitation Greenery, hand-picked, from my own plantation Feels the heat, under the sombrero To any amigo that's tryin' to, stop the dineros Chills with, senoritas, like Charro Get drunk off tequila lay low till tomorrow
Follow, my flow, get the cash and go Call my homey B-Rizzy in Mexico City Loose lips sink ships, faker faces got guilt Didn't mean to call you late, I need a hideout till Cool, homey, I'll bring some fuckin' skunk The homey smuggle me across lines in a trunk Just like a bird I'm free in a land With no fuckin' extradition treaty, I'm out, geyeah
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God With the crew from off the Hill
B-Really killin' the Phillie now can you feel me from the Soul Assassin committee, the shitty niggaz never thrill me You silly bitches never respect, neglect money You funny or broke, think it's a joke, your nose is runny Got my main man, Mr. Rocho kickin' the vocals From the Eastside, where it's loco sellin' the poco
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com From the two G's, breakin' the leaves of cheese, makin' the bacon You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin' Evading the pigs, raiding my crib, I'm mad lib And I wanna live and I'm givin' the message droppin' the lesson Flippin' shit, and I'm keepin' 'em guessin' they all stressin' Hit the lullaby, no confession, we in session
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God With the crew from off the Hill
We's beez the three amigos, skates with nickel plates Under the seat and we goes east coast, west coast, anybody killer Soul Assassins gets the cash and smash Who spits the glocks like uno and dos? Makin' your body disappear like a ghost One time's tryin' to gaffle me, harassin' me Tryin' to send me to the penitentiary
In the nighttime, niggaz are creepin' you fuckin' sleepin' And the beat, just keeps on seepin' into the street While you peakin' I'm meetin' and greetin' the people speakin' And leadin' the motherfuckers who's seekin' to catch, ruckus Meaning you suckers no luckers overdub us, nut hug us You love us, you can't stop, these mad audio hustlers
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
-
|