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| 2. |
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Lowrider"
(feat. Mellow Man Ace) (Mellow Man Ace: repeat 2X) Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der.. (Intro: B-Real + (Mellow Man Ace)) Aww, comin through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby Got that junk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three (low-ri-der) So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight (B-Real) Now when people are done, bumpin they head to this You wonder why you wanted anything instead of this We been makin you bounce, for many years already Rock steady and cut, many niggaz to confetti But I just want to blaze it up; whether it's the mic or a spliff Yes my gift is to amaze you all Thought I couldn't come for ten my friend, but guess what? I slay niggaz and still savin my best nut (low-ri-der) But you better cover your eyes, cause you never know when I spit it out and start some flowin I drop rhymes that grow like trees you're smokin Ear drums feel like lungs, your brain's chokin Just let it soak in, seep in, creep in I'm keepin, all you motherfuckers in the deep end (low-ri-der) You wanna trip? Then I got luggage I stuff you in and send you off, cause you ain't rugged (Chorus + (Mellow Man Ace)) Aww, comin through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby Got that junk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street (low-ri-der) We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three So pop yo' collar, give a holla, throw the dubs in the air (low-ri-der) We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight (B-Real & Sen Dog) Cause, we're Cypress Hill, come on and ride with us Just get inside, we bouncin dippin, chop it up real tough Lean to the side, pimp yo' hat, tilt yo' seat on back Don't front on me, baby boy, and break bread with the sack (low-ri-der) (Sen Dog) I be the vato with the fine hoodrat in the ranfla Always roll deep on the streets like the mafia Pleito, just might come back and haunt ya Flossin too much, no vato's gonna want ya Not right here homes, we're past all of that Makin that feria, spittin that raps Ya me conoces, I'm down for my calle Cypress Ave, y a pudo les madre (low-ri-der) Ya tu sabes, we don't play that shit Any pendejo's gettin hit up quick Whassup ese? What hood you claim? Now throw it up and down like it ain't no thang (low-ri-der) Hands in the air with the pinky rings Soul Assassins, runnin everything To all you vatos, make sure you check this In every barrio, I'm well respected (low-ri-der) (Chorus) (Mellow Man Ace: repeat 4X to fade) Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der.. |
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B-Real :
It's been a while now Been around the block many miles Many faces, many places that I found friends Places where I spend time, places where my mind roam Places I can call home Places I can get stoned I just wanna be alone When I'm feelin' in my zone People want to knock me down 'cos they never have their own They won't get the best of me But they try hopelessly Why you wanna fuck wit' me? I'm not, what you s'posed to be? You could not give a DAMN Coulda just Killed A Man Sawn off in my hand But I had to kill the plan Think I've found my piece of mind Feet planted on the ground I just had to redefine, what I thought to myself It all goes around me and others who would down me Who I don't give a fuck about, Trouble always found me, I know used to welcome it with my arms open wide, Trouble's hand's on the door, but it can't come INSIDE! Chorus: NO TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! You want trouble, c'mon, You want trouble? You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? Sen Dog: Trouble on the line, all the fuckin' time Got me contemplatin' the solution, the fusion my wicked mind Got suckers that hate me but it don't really matter I'm like a gat when I bust, niggas run and scatter Movin' in circles, throwin' elbows and fists You got to be a real nigga in a Cypress Hill pit Lotta critics talkin' shit, but I'm not concerned A hundred G's for sixty minutes is the bank I earn I try to put it to you BLUNTLY so you bitches can learn That no-body get tired when it's time to burn With so many phonies out there a lot of you have been fooled In to actually believin' that some shit is cool Take the blinders off and go look for yourself Fuck hearin' about shit from somebody else I'm down for myself, I back up myself Put in all on the line make sure that I'M FELT! Chorus: NO TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! You want trouble, c'mon, You want trouble? You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? B-Real : Nooooo! B-Real: Look, the wall's closin' in and my shoe's wearin' thin Had to be the biggest clown that you couldn't comprehend Some hated on my game, said I wouldn't be the same Called me "Rock Superstar", "Insane In The Brain" But I know I haven't changed So I brush you to the side Trouble's knockin' on the door, Anxious jus' to come inside 'times I gotta block it out, no-one likes to talk it out Trouble keeps comin' and I can't seem to lock it out Got my hands on the phone, I don't wanna have to talk If you're feelin funky son, then I guess you gotta jump I can see it in your eyes, you don't seem to recognise I wouldn't fall into your trap, for many lives to compromise I'm not fallin' for your shit, you ain't gonna take me there You can talk all you want, but I don't got your weight to bear Chorus: NO, TROUBLE'S AT MY DOOR! {You want trouble right now? C'mon You want trouble right now? C'mon} B-Real: You want trouble, c'mon You want trouble? (Repeat 4x) |
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(*Yes y'all ? cut and scratched*)
(B-Real) You're a lost soul rollin down the street Hustlin, scramblin, money you eat You wanna jack somebody, never look at me Cause I'm like you when I'm holdin heat You don't want to think about re-percussions Cause you don't give a f**k about who you rushin So what you gonna do when the blood is gushin? You're playin Roulette without the Russian The stakes are high; can you feel the pressure? Lookin at the club on top of your dresser Born for the big bank robbin your own Thinkin your stone but your weak ass throne Bitches like you ain't got no heart Paranoid, you're settin in, fallin apart How many times will you take to see it? You fallin away, but you don't believe it (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) Jack me and you'll never go back Jack me and I'll jack you back Where y'all bitches got the scheme or the stack? Jack me and I'll jump to attack Tell me what started a scheme at ya lap Jack me and I'll jump to attack Jack me and I'll jack you back Jack me and I'll jack you back (Sen Dog) Clothes are settin off from the start I'm crazy as f**k just like 2 Pac Mash on Cypress Hill in a Catalac truck Steels all gone, so I gotta play it ruff Got hate for do out there, I ain't jokin Can't hold me back these days, I'm out smokin And I still see myself as Enforcer Knock em in their face if they dedicate closer A Cuban massive man (Spanish) With real attack touch straight, from the ghetto Walk for a twenty all day like a (Spanish) Spit ball; lick all rhymes just like (Spanish) I run over fools like Dorsey Leathers And murder antiques like J-Rhyme I kill peasants Take over ships like Female Kastro Do anything that a nigga HAS TO (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) Jack me and you'll never go back Jack me and I'll jack you back Where y'all bitches got the scheme or the stack? Jack me and I'll jump to attack Tell me what started a scheme at ya lap Jack me and I'll jump to attack Jack me and I'll jack you back Jack me and I'll jack you back (Jack you back, jack you back) (B-Real) Lights are f**ked up it's confusin Look at you now what road you choosin You'll never be a part of the revolution You f**k with me, feel the retribution Punk bitches can never deal with the real Cause you weak motherf**kers can't decide what you feel Always poppin shit and hide from the Hill Comin out where you reside for the kill (Sen Dog) Knocked out Pluto, Super Hill thriller Verbal assault, Soul Assassin killer Real master Mic, ca, sex come iller Stoned is a waste over, what you feeler Can't make moves so you go ask Chiller Try the Real Estate trust centipede riller Bet your ass that I'm bangin to the fullest And don't get in my way punk ass, not a Buddhist (Chorus: B-Real & Sen Dog) Jack me and you'll never go back Jack me and I'll jack you back Where y'all bitches got the scheme or the stack? Jack me and I'll jump to attack Tell me what started a scheme at ya lap Jack me and I'll jump to attack Jack me and I'll jack you back Jack me and I'll jack you back |
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