This pig harassed the whole neighborhood,
Well this pig worked at the station.
This pig he killed my Homeboy,
So the f**kin' pig went on a vacation.
This pig he is the chief,
Got a brother pig, Captain O'Malley.
He's got a son that'a a pig too,
He's collectin' pay-offs from a dark alley.
This pig is known as a Narco,
If he's a pig or not, we know that he could be.
This pig he's a f**kin' fag,
So all his homepigs they call him a pussy.
Well this pig he's really cool,
So in this class we know he rides all alone.
Well this pig's standin' eatin' donuts,
While some motherf**kers out robbin' your home.
This pig he's a big punk,
And I know that he can't stand the sight of me.
'Cos pigs don't like it when ya act smart,
And when ya tell 'em that your a group from society.
This pig works for the mafia,
Makin' some money off crack.
But this little pig got caught,
So when he gets to the Pen it's all about the pay-back.
'Cos once he gets to the Pen,
They won't provide the little pig with a bullet-proof vest.
To protect him from some mad nigga,
Who he shot in the chest and placed under arrest.
An' it's all about breakin' off sausage,
Do ya feel sorry for the poor little swine ?
Niggas wanna do him in the ass,
Just ta pay his ass back, so they're standin' in line.
That f**kin' pig.
Look what he got himself into.
Now they're gonna make some pigs feet outta the little punk.
Anybody like pork-chops ?
How 'bout a ham sandwich ?
How 'bout a ham sandwich ?
Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill Album Lyrics
Cypress Hill - Cypress Hill Lyrics
Writer: Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
How I Could Just Kill A Man
[Intro:]
It's another one of them ol' funky Cypress Hill things
YouknowhatI'msayin?
And it goes like thisss...
[Verse One: Be Real]
Hey don't miss out on what your passin
You're missin the hoota of the funky Buddha
Eluder or the f*cked up styles to get wicked
So come on as cypress starts to kick it
Cuz we're like the outlaw stridin
Suckers are hidein
Jump behind the bush when they see me driving
by
Hangin out my window
And my magnum takin out some puto's
Acting kinda loco
I'm just another local
Kid from from the street getting paid for my
vocals
(Be-Real) Here is something you can't understand
(Sen Dog) How I could just kill a man
[Chorus: x4]
[Be-Real] Here is something you can't understand [what does it all mean]
[Sen Dog] How I could just kill a man
Verse Two: Sen Dog, Be-Real
[Sen Dog]
I been doin' all the dumb shit,
yo, because I bet it's comin' from it
I'm not gonna waste no time,
f*ckin' around like I got ya hummin
Hummin'... comin' at cha...
And you know I had to gat ya.
[Be-Real]
Time for some action, just a fraction of friction
I got the clearance to run the interference
into your sattelite, shinin a battle light,
swing out the gat, and I know that will gat ya right.
Here's an example, just a little sample.
How I could just kill a man!
One-time tried to come in my home,
take my chrome, I said "Yo, it's on.
Take cover son, or you're ass-out.
How you like my chrome?", then I watched the rookie pass out.
Didn't have to blast him, but I did anyway...
Hahaha... that young punk had to pay.
So I just killed a man!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Be Real]
It's gonna be a long time before I finish
one of the many missions that I have to establish
To light my spliff, ignite ya with these sights
and if you ain't down: bullshit!
Say some punk try to get you for your auto,
Would you call the one-time, play the role model?
No, I think you play like a thug
Next hear the shot of a magnum slug
Hummin', comin' at cha
yeah ya know I'm gonna gat ya
How you know where I'm at when you haven't been where I've been,
understand where I'm coming from.
When you're up on the hill, in your big home
I'm out here, risking my dome.
Just for a bucket, or a fast ducat
just to stay alive, aiyyo I gotta say "f*ck it".
[Be-Real] Here is something you can't understand
[Sen Dog] How I could just kill a man
[Chorus:]
[Outro:]
All I wanted was a Pepsi
Writer: RUDY ARCHULETA, LOWELL FULSOM, LAMONT HOLBDY, HUGH MC CRACKEN, LARRY E MUGGERUD, ROD NAVARRO, MORRIS J TAFT
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Hand On The Pump
[Verse One]
Well I'm an alley cat, some say a dirty rat
On my side you see my gat, see I'm all of that
Sendin off buck shots for I'm gonna wetcha
Running hard, but I'm still coming to getcha
Thinking like a peace smoke, comin on a homicide
You talkin shit, try to take me for a ride
I'm not a bad guy, but I'm the funky feel one
Finger on the trigger with my hands upon the steel
Lettin out a bullet, this is going boo-yaa
You're stuck in my so hood, so what ya gonna do now?
Being the hunted one is no fun
Here I come son, yo I think you better run
Better run more, and move a little faster
Second of thought and I'm coming to blast ya
With my
[Chorus]
Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Left hand on a forty, (puffin onna blunt)
Pumped my shotgun, (niggaz didn't jump)
Lala la la lala la laaaaa...
[Verse Two]
Comin at you like a stiff blow, f*ckin up your program
Ain't takin shit from you him or no man
Master mind maniac and a menace soooo
How they want to pass sentence
All because a nigga tried to play me on the trigger
He missed, so now the nigga's pissed
Rude and crude like a pitbull, get to the point
Your f*ckin car to get pulled, now
I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And I'm handin out beatdowns
I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And I'm handin out beatdowns (get your face down!)
Put me in chains, try to beat my brains
I can get out, but the grudge remains
When I see ya punk ass, I'm gonna getcha
F*cking do ya, shotgun go boo-yaa!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
Kickin that funky Cypress Hill shit
Take a lot of mental for the blunted to chill with,
Cuz I'm the chill one, known to get ill one
They stepped to the Hill "What's up?", I had to kill one
Now I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And they got me on lock down
Headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And they got me on lock down
Hit me like a nigga who done lost his mind
Cause I ain't goin out like a spineless jellyfish
Some say life is a bitch
Ask that punk who dug his own ditch
Out for the Hill f*ckin up at a party
Tried to get funny, put a hole in his body
Lala la la lala la laaa
Look at all of those funeral cars
Cause I'ma
[Chorus]
Well I'm an alley cat, some say a dirty rat
On my side you see my gat, see I'm all of that
Sendin off buck shots for I'm gonna wetcha
Running hard, but I'm still coming to getcha
Thinking like a peace smoke, comin on a homicide
You talkin shit, try to take me for a ride
I'm not a bad guy, but I'm the funky feel one
Finger on the trigger with my hands upon the steel
Lettin out a bullet, this is going boo-yaa
You're stuck in my so hood, so what ya gonna do now?
Being the hunted one is no fun
Here I come son, yo I think you better run
Better run more, and move a little faster
Second of thought and I'm coming to blast ya
With my
[Chorus]
Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Left hand on a forty, (puffin onna blunt)
Pumped my shotgun, (niggaz didn't jump)
Lala la la lala la laaaaa...
[Verse Two]
Comin at you like a stiff blow, f*ckin up your program
Ain't takin shit from you him or no man
Master mind maniac and a menace soooo
How they want to pass sentence
All because a nigga tried to play me on the trigger
He missed, so now the nigga's pissed
Rude and crude like a pitbull, get to the point
Your f*ckin car to get pulled, now
I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And I'm handin out beatdowns
I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And I'm handin out beatdowns (get your face down!)
Put me in chains, try to beat my brains
I can get out, but the grudge remains
When I see ya punk ass, I'm gonna getcha
F*cking do ya, shotgun go boo-yaa!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
Kickin that funky Cypress Hill shit
Take a lot of mental for the blunted to chill with,
Cuz I'm the chill one, known to get ill one
They stepped to the Hill "What's up?", I had to kill one
Now I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And they got me on lock down
Headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And they got me on lock down
Hit me like a nigga who done lost his mind
Cause I ain't goin out like a spineless jellyfish
Some say life is a bitch
Ask that punk who dug his own ditch
Out for the Hill f*ckin up at a party
Tried to get funny, put a hole in his body
Lala la la lala la laaa
Look at all of those funeral cars
Cause I'ma
[Chorus]
Writer: BERNICE WILLIAMS, BRETT ANTHONY BOULDIN, EARL G. SR. EDWARDS, EUGENE DRAKE DIXON, LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Hole in the Head
[Sen Dog] Gangster Red, whassup yo?
[Gst Red] It's a Tribe thang
[Verse One: B-Real]
Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente
See a gang, no there ain't no jugete
Rollin like a pyscho with the windows rolled down
Who you lookin at, you tryin to fade me clown?
Plato, si mon, you want static
When you reach for your gat to load your automatic
(Boo-yaa!!) Spittin out buckshots
Homey say blood claat, so you can call a pig
Cause no one could handle, I wind up, and loco
Insane in the brain, you get the bullet and
[Chorus: B-Real, Sen Dog]
A hole in your head
A hole in your f*ckin head/A f*ckin hole in your head
In your head!
A hole in the/your head, a hole in the/your head
You get a hole in the head (a hole in the head) in your motherf*ckin head
Huh!/In your head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head
[Verse Two: B-Real]
Eight barrel pumpin, system thumpin
See a fine heina, c'mon baby jump in
I stop to cop, here let me tell you somethin
Me and you, bruca, we should be humpin
Honey likes the mack, homey's got her in the bag
But there's vato's rollin out, and they're stickin up the flag
He jumps out with the sag, hey where ya from homes?
It's on... he sees him reachin for his chrome
Buckshot to the dome, jumps in the Brome
Honey's in the back but she just wants to go home
But he trips to the store homeboy needs a forty
White boy at the counter's thinkin oh lordy lordy!
Pushin on the button, panickin for nuttin
Pigs on the way, aiyyo I smells bacon
Dips out the store, one-time hits the corner
And he hits the f*ckin alley like his homes was Pop Warner
Still had the forty, comin at the alley
Seen the chief's son, pig Officer O'Malley, oink
In the black and white thinkin he's gonna check him right
Wrong, hah, it's gonna be on
That pig better suck a la chrome (P.D. 187)
A to the motherf*ckin K! (You know whassup Sen)
Get your ass down! And by the way
[Chorus]
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby Doo y'all
Scooby Doo!
A Scooby Doo y'all, a doobie doobie doo y'all
Doobie doo!
A Scooby Doo y'all, Scooby Doo y'all!
Scooby Doo!
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby doobie Doo y'all
[Verse Three: B-Real]
Six rollin up and now he's really baffled
Brother's thinkin "Damn I never got this gaffled" (to' up)
Beat down (down) on the way to the station
Gaffled up from a false accusation
Oink to the pen, you know homes the one that's where the
attitudes apply and where the punks'll be dined
Made a comb to a shank, I'm gonna stick ya
Wet ya, you know homes the picture
(Yeah you never been to jail boy!)
Broomstick up your ass
And by the way, you get
[Chorus x2]
[Sen Dog] Yeah South Central and the Westside teamed up
This is hell boy
[Gst Red] It's a Tribe thang... straight up! It's a Tribe thang
[Sen Dog] What side is that Red?
[B-Real] Can they kick it?
Can they kick it?
Yeah, can they kick it?
I'm Sirnose and they cannot kick it
[Gst Red] It's a Tribe thang
[Verse One: B-Real]
Madman gonna get cha, quick with the cuente
See a gang, no there ain't no jugete
Rollin like a pyscho with the windows rolled down
Who you lookin at, you tryin to fade me clown?
Plato, si mon, you want static
When you reach for your gat to load your automatic
(Boo-yaa!!) Spittin out buckshots
Homey say blood claat, so you can call a pig
Cause no one could handle, I wind up, and loco
Insane in the brain, you get the bullet and
[Chorus: B-Real, Sen Dog]
A hole in your head
A hole in your f*ckin head/A f*ckin hole in your head
In your head!
A hole in the/your head, a hole in the/your head
You get a hole in the head (a hole in the head) in your motherf*ckin head
Huh!/In your head
A hole in the head, a hole in the head
[Verse Two: B-Real]
Eight barrel pumpin, system thumpin
See a fine heina, c'mon baby jump in
I stop to cop, here let me tell you somethin
Me and you, bruca, we should be humpin
Honey likes the mack, homey's got her in the bag
But there's vato's rollin out, and they're stickin up the flag
He jumps out with the sag, hey where ya from homes?
It's on... he sees him reachin for his chrome
Buckshot to the dome, jumps in the Brome
Honey's in the back but she just wants to go home
But he trips to the store homeboy needs a forty
White boy at the counter's thinkin oh lordy lordy!
Pushin on the button, panickin for nuttin
Pigs on the way, aiyyo I smells bacon
Dips out the store, one-time hits the corner
And he hits the f*ckin alley like his homes was Pop Warner
Still had the forty, comin at the alley
Seen the chief's son, pig Officer O'Malley, oink
In the black and white thinkin he's gonna check him right
Wrong, hah, it's gonna be on
That pig better suck a la chrome (P.D. 187)
A to the motherf*ckin K! (You know whassup Sen)
Get your ass down! And by the way
[Chorus]
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby Doo y'all
Scooby Doo!
A Scooby Doo y'all, a doobie doobie doo y'all
Doobie doo!
A Scooby Doo y'all, Scooby Doo y'all!
Scooby Doo!
A Scooby Doo y'all, a Scooby doobie Doo y'all
[Verse Three: B-Real]
Six rollin up and now he's really baffled
Brother's thinkin "Damn I never got this gaffled" (to' up)
Beat down (down) on the way to the station
Gaffled up from a false accusation
Oink to the pen, you know homes the one that's where the
attitudes apply and where the punks'll be dined
Made a comb to a shank, I'm gonna stick ya
Wet ya, you know homes the picture
(Yeah you never been to jail boy!)
Broomstick up your ass
And by the way, you get
[Chorus x2]
[Sen Dog] Yeah South Central and the Westside teamed up
This is hell boy
[Gst Red] It's a Tribe thang... straight up! It's a Tribe thang
[Sen Dog] What side is that Red?
[B-Real] Can they kick it?
Can they kick it?
Yeah, can they kick it?
I'm Sirnose and they cannot kick it
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Ultraviolet Dreams
Ultraviolet dreams
Take a hit of that stuff
Ultraviolet dreams
That's some good shit man!
Stuff should light now
Oh, that shit's good man!
Ultraviolet dreams
It's like the biggest joint man (oh no!)
That's the hook up!
Ultraviolet dreams
Hook up ese (pass that shit homie)
(That stuff right there)
Ultraviolet dreams
Órale, hey I'm holding it
Let me see that
Ultraviolet dreams
That's some good shit man!
Goddamn!
Feed me
That's some good shit
Take a hit of that stuff
Ultraviolet dreams
That's some good shit man!
Stuff should light now
Oh, that shit's good man!
Ultraviolet dreams
It's like the biggest joint man (oh no!)
That's the hook up!
Ultraviolet dreams
Hook up ese (pass that shit homie)
(That stuff right there)
Ultraviolet dreams
Órale, hey I'm holding it
Let me see that
Ultraviolet dreams
That's some good shit man!
Goddamn!
Feed me
That's some good shit
Writer: Charles Williams, Lawrence Muggerud
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Light Another
[B-Real]
Yo light one, ignite one, draw me like the buddha
You say I'm the joint, but you can call me hooda
Computer, wizard, the butcher of scissors
Cut me up and spark and roll me up, like a blizzard
Dwellin your cells up, lungs start to swell up
Your pipe's gettin crowded, yo just forget about it
Me, is potent, so bring an opponent
You could suck on it, shit I know you wanted to
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
[Sen] B-Real, light another
[B-Real]
I'm smoked out, not on a menthol cigarette
How could you figure, or even, consider that
I'm, a weak seed, no, I'm the humble weed
?, hash spliff this tweed
actin type of stylin, how do you spell it
Take a hit from outta New York into Phillie
Hit some Visine, so the smoke can let out
Now do you really think you can take the red out and
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
[Sen] B-Real, light another
[B-Real]
Spliff, aiyya, ?, vaya
Why ya, want ta, turn off the fire
You can't get higher, when you turn me off and
.. aiyyo, pussy stop coughin
You're wastin the lingo, soon all the sack's gone
He'll take this bounty rhyme for you to stack on
Anyway you have it, you love me like Mary Jane
or a 40 to the head, like my brother Kenny Wayne
You need to inhale, musical paraphen'
Yes musical, Muggs fixed the trend
Ahhh, just like a head
Brain cells get lit, but I'm the joint you can't grip
Through, your finger, I'll start to sting ya
So just hear my words linger and
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
Yo Muggs, light another!
..
[B-Real]
Put me in the bamboo, with just a tape deck
? like brother, rewinds the cassette
Was it, because it's funky that ya loves it?
(Yeah man) Here's another lyric, go puff it
Don't choke off, the hype or croak off
When you blow the smoke off, hold until I get off
or turn off the fat joint, wanna hit that joint
Here is the flat point, I rob it at gun point
I'm, the High Times, you get through my rhymes
Suck on the pipeline, sit back and recline
You gotta suck on, the fattie so come on and
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
I'll just, light another
[Cypress Hill]
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
Yo, light another
You wanna feel the effects of the high?
You wanna feel the effects of the high?
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
Aiyyo, light another
You wanna feel the effects of the high?
Can you feel the effects of the high? Can you feel it?
I feel the effects of the high -- yo can you feel it?
Yo light that motherf*cker up man
I know you feel it
Yo light one, ignite one, draw me like the buddha
You say I'm the joint, but you can call me hooda
Computer, wizard, the butcher of scissors
Cut me up and spark and roll me up, like a blizzard
Dwellin your cells up, lungs start to swell up
Your pipe's gettin crowded, yo just forget about it
Me, is potent, so bring an opponent
You could suck on it, shit I know you wanted to
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
[Sen] B-Real, light another
[B-Real]
I'm smoked out, not on a menthol cigarette
How could you figure, or even, consider that
I'm, a weak seed, no, I'm the humble weed
?, hash spliff this tweed
actin type of stylin, how do you spell it
Take a hit from outta New York into Phillie
Hit some Visine, so the smoke can let out
Now do you really think you can take the red out and
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
[Sen] B-Real, light another
[B-Real]
Spliff, aiyya, ?, vaya
Why ya, want ta, turn off the fire
You can't get higher, when you turn me off and
.. aiyyo, pussy stop coughin
You're wastin the lingo, soon all the sack's gone
He'll take this bounty rhyme for you to stack on
Anyway you have it, you love me like Mary Jane
or a 40 to the head, like my brother Kenny Wayne
You need to inhale, musical paraphen'
Yes musical, Muggs fixed the trend
Ahhh, just like a head
Brain cells get lit, but I'm the joint you can't grip
Through, your finger, I'll start to sting ya
So just hear my words linger and
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
Yo Muggs, light another!
..
[B-Real]
Put me in the bamboo, with just a tape deck
? like brother, rewinds the cassette
Was it, because it's funky that ya loves it?
(Yeah man) Here's another lyric, go puff it
Don't choke off, the hype or croak off
When you blow the smoke off, hold until I get off
or turn off the fat joint, wanna hit that joint
Here is the flat point, I rob it at gun point
I'm, the High Times, you get through my rhymes
Suck on the pipeline, sit back and recline
You gotta suck on, the fattie so come on and
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
I'll just, light another
[Cypress Hill]
Feel the effects of the high
I know you feel the effects of the high
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
Yo, light another
You wanna feel the effects of the high?
You wanna feel the effects of the high?
Wanna feel the effects of the high, brother?
Aiyyo, light another
You wanna feel the effects of the high?
Can you feel the effects of the high? Can you feel it?
I feel the effects of the high -- yo can you feel it?
Yo light that motherf*cker up man
I know you feel it
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
The Phuncky Feel One
Are you ready? Ladies and gentlemen, all ready to get down?
Are you ready? Ladies and gentlemen, y'all ready to get down?
Ladies and gentlemen
Well I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky feel one
Cypress Hill has come, any questions ask them
'Cause we are answerin', any brothers that've been
On the dick swingin', and straight gatherin'
Enter da info, 'cause yo what you're in fo'
Is a crazy day, strapped in a pimp mode
Trapped like a prophet, but I still profit
Even when you're off it, bank's in my pocket
'Cause of my music, what you call me chumpy?
In my trade, the Tribe is known to get funky
Hif is here to hack you down, Son is here to buck you down
Joke's on you, if you're the biggest duck in town
You got to relax, we got to kick back
Brothers just sit back, enjoy me like a six pack
As I let the rhyme flow, into the hook
Yo where you gettin' took, but that's another story black
'Cause I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
You know I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
Night in a stiff lock, hangin' up the pimp's jock
Used to call me Pimp Poppa, 'cause I likes to hip-hop
'Cause I'm down with Cypress, illin well I might
Begin to take your girl, your girl she's the flyest
Flyer than the other broad, workin' off the fish rod
Isn't that odd, instead of sayin' my dick's hard
It's not about knockin' you, do you feel like clockin' loot?
Forget it act stupid little sucker I'll be clockin' you
With the right or left hand, duck they was still stand
Troopers on the side step, bucks him down to death man
With the greater lyric, if you can spare it
Just an ass kickin', is what you inherit
So don't try to snake off, you know I can't be shook off
Why the suckers took off? Well that's another story black
'Cause I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
You know I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
Standin' on the corner, close to the real estate
Clones they really pull stickin' brothers try to imitate
Meaning when they simulate, but they can't stimulate
Like a faded joint, stiff from the breath I take
Make me act loco, they switchin' up my vocal
Out to catch you so-called, MC's with a roll call
Then you gotta close your eyes, you can't stand the sunlight
There is just one light, the Tribe's buckin' heads tonight!
Buck buck buck ya head! Sorry that red is dead
Deader than a doornail, someone cold made his bed
Didn't just break out, the sucker got cracked out
Hit the pipe and blacked out, with the shit from back down
So much more integrity, greatest deal I hook up
Was a funky looker
But that's another story black
'Cause we're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
We're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
We're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
You know we're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
Are you ready? Ladies and gentlemen, y'all ready to get down?
Ladies and gentlemen
Well I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky feel one
Cypress Hill has come, any questions ask them
'Cause we are answerin', any brothers that've been
On the dick swingin', and straight gatherin'
Enter da info, 'cause yo what you're in fo'
Is a crazy day, strapped in a pimp mode
Trapped like a prophet, but I still profit
Even when you're off it, bank's in my pocket
'Cause of my music, what you call me chumpy?
In my trade, the Tribe is known to get funky
Hif is here to hack you down, Son is here to buck you down
Joke's on you, if you're the biggest duck in town
You got to relax, we got to kick back
Brothers just sit back, enjoy me like a six pack
As I let the rhyme flow, into the hook
Yo where you gettin' took, but that's another story black
'Cause I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
You know I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
Night in a stiff lock, hangin' up the pimp's jock
Used to call me Pimp Poppa, 'cause I likes to hip-hop
'Cause I'm down with Cypress, illin well I might
Begin to take your girl, your girl she's the flyest
Flyer than the other broad, workin' off the fish rod
Isn't that odd, instead of sayin' my dick's hard
It's not about knockin' you, do you feel like clockin' loot?
Forget it act stupid little sucker I'll be clockin' you
With the right or left hand, duck they was still stand
Troopers on the side step, bucks him down to death man
With the greater lyric, if you can spare it
Just an ass kickin', is what you inherit
So don't try to snake off, you know I can't be shook off
Why the suckers took off? Well that's another story black
'Cause I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
You know I'm the Real one, yes the phuncky Feel One
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
Standin' on the corner, close to the real estate
Clones they really pull stickin' brothers try to imitate
Meaning when they simulate, but they can't stimulate
Like a faded joint, stiff from the breath I take
Make me act loco, they switchin' up my vocal
Out to catch you so-called, MC's with a roll call
Then you gotta close your eyes, you can't stand the sunlight
There is just one light, the Tribe's buckin' heads tonight!
Buck buck buck ya head! Sorry that red is dead
Deader than a doornail, someone cold made his bed
Didn't just break out, the sucker got cracked out
Hit the pipe and blacked out, with the shit from back down
So much more integrity, greatest deal I hook up
Was a funky looker
But that's another story black
'Cause we're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
We're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
We're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
You know we're the real ones, yes, the phuncky feel ones
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
(Phuncky, phuncky, phuncky, phuncky)
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Break It Up
Break it up Cypress Hill, break it up Cypress, break it up Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill!
[x13 to fade]
Cypress Hill!
[x13 to fade]
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Real Estate
[B-Real]
You'll waste time to hurt her, sorta like murder
A duck with the public's favorite rhyme order
I ain't no waiter or hater of a spectator (kill em B-Real)
Seekin to find the toys, with no flavor
See I'm talkin about those whose vocals ain't comin off
A skill to kill at will, but awfully dumb of course
some go nut, the power of the last one
slower, flower, blower
Those who ain't pros I wet my stupid radio
cause he needs a G when you listen to the vocal
I'm not a loco but I'm lookin just til punk go OHH
Now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
All these motherf*ckers that wanna run up on the Hill
Step off! You know why?
This shit is all about BOO-YAA cause I said step off!
[B-Real]
This is the crime you find you're not an exponent
Doggone it, another gonna mierda on it
Now you're wishin, fishin you could do this
But on the strength, yo, I think you knew this
was just like a dream, when you supreme, the king
of a minor ?
All for 47, swung ? eleven
Got hit with a pitch like a bitch and went to heaven
Weak ducks, duckin and buckin
Sayin FUKKIT, ain't worth damn pay the ducats
From my public, my favorite subject, I loves it
So go 'head, talk your punk shit
Suckers, you're nuttin, ? like a jock ?
Crack smoker, can we adjust we choker
Ohh, now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
Heh heh heh, another soft pussy motherf*cker
Another fly verse
Straight from the deficit
Another scripture of B-Real
Yeah.. get funky, Real
This is the Lower Eastside of things
YouknowhatI'msayin? Cypress Hill
[B-Real]
You ain't flamboyant, a toy boy on it
Ain't paid a plot, for un-em-b-boyment
I won't cause yo I got a lot of what I gotcha
Plus I taught ya, the beat on the top of
everything you know, still you can't do no
damage or duel though aiyyo, cause our crew now
the Real is the ?, sport and you can see this
G-ness dialogue, of the real skiers
I ain't nuttin like a joke, get stoned, get smoked
and choke off, the hypes I cook off
The dialectic, funk-elistic
Chew slower or become another statistic
Ohh, now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
Yo I told you to keep down brother
The motherf*ckers just don't learn nothin G
Wake up Hill
They gotta keep goin back to the old school
So they keep goin out
Cause they're just not Real
Ha yeah that's right fool
[B-Real]
Yes the master pass, kick your ass
and feel combustion, for the dope blast
Cause you're steppin on my property, get off it G
Get caught up, then you get shot up
See, violators will be prosecuted
by the reputed, undisputed, Cypress zooted
Not so, no there's no sellout
You ain't got enough ducats to shell out
Well I'm in front, and yo I feel great
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
Yeah, roaches come in but they don't come out G
Don't come on the Hill
That's right
Get off the Real Estate
Get off the Real Estate
Get off the Real Estate
Get off the Real Estate
You'll waste time to hurt her, sorta like murder
A duck with the public's favorite rhyme order
I ain't no waiter or hater of a spectator (kill em B-Real)
Seekin to find the toys, with no flavor
See I'm talkin about those whose vocals ain't comin off
A skill to kill at will, but awfully dumb of course
some go nut, the power of the last one
slower, flower, blower
Those who ain't pros I wet my stupid radio
cause he needs a G when you listen to the vocal
I'm not a loco but I'm lookin just til punk go OHH
Now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
All these motherf*ckers that wanna run up on the Hill
Step off! You know why?
This shit is all about BOO-YAA cause I said step off!
[B-Real]
This is the crime you find you're not an exponent
Doggone it, another gonna mierda on it
Now you're wishin, fishin you could do this
But on the strength, yo, I think you knew this
was just like a dream, when you supreme, the king
of a minor ?
All for 47, swung ? eleven
Got hit with a pitch like a bitch and went to heaven
Weak ducks, duckin and buckin
Sayin FUKKIT, ain't worth damn pay the ducats
From my public, my favorite subject, I loves it
So go 'head, talk your punk shit
Suckers, you're nuttin, ? like a jock ?
Crack smoker, can we adjust we choker
Ohh, now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
Heh heh heh, another soft pussy motherf*cker
Another fly verse
Straight from the deficit
Another scripture of B-Real
Yeah.. get funky, Real
This is the Lower Eastside of things
YouknowhatI'msayin? Cypress Hill
[B-Real]
You ain't flamboyant, a toy boy on it
Ain't paid a plot, for un-em-b-boyment
I won't cause yo I got a lot of what I gotcha
Plus I taught ya, the beat on the top of
everything you know, still you can't do no
damage or duel though aiyyo, cause our crew now
the Real is the ?, sport and you can see this
G-ness dialogue, of the real skiers
I ain't nuttin like a joke, get stoned, get smoked
and choke off, the hypes I cook off
The dialectic, funk-elistic
Chew slower or become another statistic
Ohh, now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
Yo I told you to keep down brother
The motherf*ckers just don't learn nothin G
Wake up Hill
They gotta keep goin back to the old school
So they keep goin out
Cause they're just not Real
Ha yeah that's right fool
[B-Real]
Yes the master pass, kick your ass
and feel combustion, for the dope blast
Cause you're steppin on my property, get off it G
Get caught up, then you get shot up
See, violators will be prosecuted
by the reputed, undisputed, Cypress zooted
Not so, no there's no sellout
You ain't got enough ducats to shell out
Well I'm in front, and yo I feel great
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
[Sen Dog]
Yeah, roaches come in but they don't come out G
Don't come on the Hill
That's right
Get off the Real Estate
Get off the Real Estate
Get off the Real Estate
Get off the Real Estate
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE, ULPIANO SERGIO REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Stoned Is The Way Of The Walk
[Chorus]
Stoned is the way of the Walk,
Stoned is the way of the Walk,
[Verse 1: B-real]
Well, it's the Alley Cat puffin' on a hootie rat,
Some think I'm a criminal,
But, yo I ain't all of that,
Hit'cha with the baseball bat,
An' ya wanna ill though,
Wanna mess around ,
You get f*cked on the hill bro,
Kick it like a steel toe, real slow,
Hits from the bong ,
Make me feel like Cheech,
And I'm kickin' it wit' Chong,
Just like Cheech & Chong frontin' with "Ice Cream",
Cypress Hill is here to give you a nice dream,
Speak it like a rolla', and you know it's rolled tightly,
I'm like the funky beat, so, why ya tryin' ta fight me,
Pigs often site me, that's not polite G,
And any hour of the day ya know I might be,
Harassed by a pig real fast,
They wanna Rodney King me,
Always tryin'a crown my ass,
Ain't got no class(Sen Dog: No Class)
I hit they' ass like the buddah thats stinkey,
They wanna' scruff but, they' just so rinky-dinky,
I'm the freaka, the one who freaks the funk,
Sen gotts the Philly, an' he's gonna light the blunt,
Sippin' curfew makes me go koo-koo,
somthin' like loco then turn in to this loocoo,
Binggin the beta,yea, now the funk is risen,
Got the beta bass and the nasal highzen,
As I kick atrip, it comin' straight from my siness,
Crazy nasal vocals, cannot make the hotties loco,
I rimemba sista Maggie, breast were kinda saggy,
Used to sell me buddah outta f*cked up little,
Honeyd up a twenty even when I had no money,
She said "Pay me back with some latin dick Sonnie"
Well I neva' went out, and I don' thnk I'm gonna,
Just for some buddah, she wanted me ta bone her,
Deminin', Ya think ya meanin',
I got somethin' for the hoes ta be skeamin' on,
I'm the Buddah-Real take a trip ta hoota'ville,
I'll throw ya out the door, of my big blue Siville,
Then light another joint,
This ain't no exploition (poin't),
Cause we are the ones stonein' in the ways of the mastas,
Stoned is the walk,
Stoned is the walk,
Stoned is the walk,
Stoned is the walk,
[Sen- Dog]
Hit they, hit they ass,
[B-Real]
make the buddah get stinkey
Wooooo, Woooo
(Alas, Cap'in there's a ship in sight,
Huhu, Blast 'em!)
Stoned is the walk
Stoned is the way of the Walk,
Stoned is the way of the Walk,
[Verse 1: B-real]
Well, it's the Alley Cat puffin' on a hootie rat,
Some think I'm a criminal,
But, yo I ain't all of that,
Hit'cha with the baseball bat,
An' ya wanna ill though,
Wanna mess around ,
You get f*cked on the hill bro,
Kick it like a steel toe, real slow,
Hits from the bong ,
Make me feel like Cheech,
And I'm kickin' it wit' Chong,
Just like Cheech & Chong frontin' with "Ice Cream",
Cypress Hill is here to give you a nice dream,
Speak it like a rolla', and you know it's rolled tightly,
I'm like the funky beat, so, why ya tryin' ta fight me,
Pigs often site me, that's not polite G,
And any hour of the day ya know I might be,
Harassed by a pig real fast,
They wanna Rodney King me,
Always tryin'a crown my ass,
Ain't got no class(Sen Dog: No Class)
I hit they' ass like the buddah thats stinkey,
They wanna' scruff but, they' just so rinky-dinky,
I'm the freaka, the one who freaks the funk,
Sen gotts the Philly, an' he's gonna light the blunt,
Sippin' curfew makes me go koo-koo,
somthin' like loco then turn in to this loocoo,
Binggin the beta,yea, now the funk is risen,
Got the beta bass and the nasal highzen,
As I kick atrip, it comin' straight from my siness,
Crazy nasal vocals, cannot make the hotties loco,
I rimemba sista Maggie, breast were kinda saggy,
Used to sell me buddah outta f*cked up little,
Honeyd up a twenty even when I had no money,
She said "Pay me back with some latin dick Sonnie"
Well I neva' went out, and I don' thnk I'm gonna,
Just for some buddah, she wanted me ta bone her,
Deminin', Ya think ya meanin',
I got somethin' for the hoes ta be skeamin' on,
I'm the Buddah-Real take a trip ta hoota'ville,
I'll throw ya out the door, of my big blue Siville,
Then light another joint,
This ain't no exploition (poin't),
Cause we are the ones stonein' in the ways of the mastas,
Stoned is the walk,
Stoned is the walk,
Stoned is the walk,
Stoned is the walk,
[Sen- Dog]
Hit they, hit they ass,
[B-Real]
make the buddah get stinkey
Wooooo, Woooo
(Alas, Cap'in there's a ship in sight,
Huhu, Blast 'em!)
Stoned is the walk
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Psycobetabuckdown
[B-Real]
I increase my throttle, uplift my shuttle
Tribe in a huddle, pilot on auto - bro
I'm not a role model, more like a psycho
A Bates type of +Psycho+, cut you like Michael
+Halloween+ character, or computer wizard
Hit you with the blizzard, cut your circuit with my scissors
Shorts'll get crossed while you're in the crossfire
You get blasted, you dumb-ass bastard
See you need the day-ta, better I say dah-ta
You're lookin at the Tribe, and you're a hater
Comin from inside, means I come better
or should I say rather, together I'm gonna set ya
head in the casket, your body in a basket
A tisket, a tasket -- I told ya I'm gonna blast ya
When I'm on the psycobeta, state of
mind over magnum, you know I'm gonna tag them
You're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
What you're runnin from, is the psycobetabuckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Psycobetaduckdown baby!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown! Huh!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Somebody's gettin bucked down
[B-Real]
See I'm from South Central, bustin out my metal
rapid-fire petal, funk is makin me get mental
Yo, it make no sense, so here son ?
Sen start the massacre, as I get nasal
The phase'll be like a murderer's maze yo
You won't find B-Real, inside any kind of cage yo
Sen is the gangsta, me I'm just a pimp
Broads swingin off my dick like a chimp, simpin
So what's the story - you come lookin for me?
Better just scatter, or you're gettin leaded
I'm the one who said it, boy it doesn't matter
You're gonna get splattered, with my funky ill juice
Cause I'm +The Phuncky Feel One+, makin you get real loose
My intellect, dialect, dialogue, intellect, catalogue
from what you want me to select
different forms of beta, psycho for alpha
The way I stay in control of myself
I'm not one of many penny ante on the gauges
in the stone ages, make minimum wages
Show me where the stage is, I come to get the brain on
HEY MAN, get the f*ck off the 'caine bruh!
You're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
What you're runnin from, is the psycobetabuckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown baby!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Psyco-beta-rrific, in profile
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Somebody's gettin bucked down
[B-Real]
Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
Yo where's the hooda?
Hahaha, funky, yeah
I don't like that crazy shit man..
I increase my throttle, uplift my shuttle
Tribe in a huddle, pilot on auto - bro
I'm not a role model, more like a psycho
A Bates type of +Psycho+, cut you like Michael
+Halloween+ character, or computer wizard
Hit you with the blizzard, cut your circuit with my scissors
Shorts'll get crossed while you're in the crossfire
You get blasted, you dumb-ass bastard
See you need the day-ta, better I say dah-ta
You're lookin at the Tribe, and you're a hater
Comin from inside, means I come better
or should I say rather, together I'm gonna set ya
head in the casket, your body in a basket
A tisket, a tasket -- I told ya I'm gonna blast ya
When I'm on the psycobeta, state of
mind over magnum, you know I'm gonna tag them
You're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
What you're runnin from, is the psycobetabuckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Psycobetaduckdown baby!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown! Huh!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Somebody's gettin bucked down
[B-Real]
See I'm from South Central, bustin out my metal
rapid-fire petal, funk is makin me get mental
Yo, it make no sense, so here son ?
Sen start the massacre, as I get nasal
The phase'll be like a murderer's maze yo
You won't find B-Real, inside any kind of cage yo
Sen is the gangsta, me I'm just a pimp
Broads swingin off my dick like a chimp, simpin
So what's the story - you come lookin for me?
Better just scatter, or you're gettin leaded
I'm the one who said it, boy it doesn't matter
You're gonna get splattered, with my funky ill juice
Cause I'm +The Phuncky Feel One+, makin you get real loose
My intellect, dialect, dialogue, intellect, catalogue
from what you want me to select
different forms of beta, psycho for alpha
The way I stay in control of myself
I'm not one of many penny ante on the gauges
in the stone ages, make minimum wages
Show me where the stage is, I come to get the brain on
HEY MAN, get the f*ck off the 'caine bruh!
You're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
You know you're gonna get flunked when I buck ya down
What you're runnin from, is the psycobetabuckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown baby!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Psyco-beta-rrific, in profile
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] It's a psycobetaduckdown!
[B] Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
[S] Somebody's gettin bucked down
[B-Real]
Psycho, alpha, disco, beta
Yo where's the hooda?
Hahaha, funky, yeah
I don't like that crazy shit man..
Writer: BERNIE WORRELL, GEORGE JR. CLINTON, LARRY MUGGERUD, LARRY E. MUGGERUD, LOUIS M. FREEZE, SENEN REYES, WILLIAM EARL COLLINS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Something For The Blunted
This is something for the blunted
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva everybody
CHIVA
Somebody say chiva
Writer: CURTIS MAYFIELD, LOUIS FREESE, LARRY MUGGERUD, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Latin Lingo
Maagghhh, let's start the f*ckin show, ah?
[Sen Dog]
Freak to the funk that no-one else is bringing
Sen Dog with the funky bilenge
Yeah thats the nombre, heard the homey
Peace to Mellow and Frost en el deporte
Sen Dog is not kid of veterano
Im down, another fried hispano
One of the many of the latin de este año
And I got plenty for the Jennies tryin to hound dog
But wait, they're clownin on me cause of my language
I have to tell em straight up, its called Spanglish
Now who's on the pinga tha gringo
Tryin to get paid, from the funky bilingual
[Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog]
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
Yeah, funky bilingual!
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
It's the latin lingo!
[Sen Dog]
Cuando entro, when I come in, suckers fronted
Me mira another bilingual from villa
Vengo con un ejemplo, check the tiempo
Ahhh... esta chingon el instrumento
Ya oiste, como somos
Yo no jodo, I gots the soul dose
And you can hear it, en las congas
Tribal ceremony as the Hill gets stronger
Don't be such a leper, what u got for la cabeza?
Hey homes, pass the cervaza
Before I have to go and push up on your resa
Hhhmm she's fine, son que fresca
Here homes have a hit of this yesca
Di yo enseño the leño lo prendo
Now you know, that I am in the centro
Where you live, si tu puedes
Nowadays you ain't shit without your puentes
Something like it's gangbang, vatos quieren BANG BANG!
Could of hung out with them now you callin me a insane
Salte de mi cara, sal de mi camino
Make way, for the the funky bilingual
[Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog]
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
Funky bilinguals hoe!
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
It's the latin lingo, baby!
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
Funky bilingual...
Some of that old Latin funk, knowhatI'msayin?
[Sen Dog]
(What's up homey? Don't you know me?) Simon!
(Ain't you the brother of the mas pingon?) Straight up
And I'm down with La Raza
Kid Frost got my back, BOO-YAA! in la casa
Cause everyday things get a little crazier
As I step to the microphone area
First I claim my city, puro Los Angeles
Yeah (you know homes) that's where the calles is
Vato wouldn't know me, along with the heinas
Catchin all them slippin, for they such a one-timer
So when you see me at the party or the baile
Before I got here I was gaffled in the calle
Troop like a vacho who said I was baracho
Had an attitude, tried to play me macho
Just relax, calmado mijo
Sen Dog with the funky bilingual
[Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog]
Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual
Funky bilingual
Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual
Funky bilingual
Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual
Funky bilingual... funky baby!
Yeah, I'd like to send peace, to my homeboy B-Real
Mellow Man Ace, Kid Frost, Ralph M the Mexican
And we're out
[Sen Dog]
Freak to the funk that no-one else is bringing
Sen Dog with the funky bilenge
Yeah thats the nombre, heard the homey
Peace to Mellow and Frost en el deporte
Sen Dog is not kid of veterano
Im down, another fried hispano
One of the many of the latin de este año
And I got plenty for the Jennies tryin to hound dog
But wait, they're clownin on me cause of my language
I have to tell em straight up, its called Spanglish
Now who's on the pinga tha gringo
Tryin to get paid, from the funky bilingual
[Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog]
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
Yeah, funky bilingual!
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
It's the latin lingo!
[Sen Dog]
Cuando entro, when I come in, suckers fronted
Me mira another bilingual from villa
Vengo con un ejemplo, check the tiempo
Ahhh... esta chingon el instrumento
Ya oiste, como somos
Yo no jodo, I gots the soul dose
And you can hear it, en las congas
Tribal ceremony as the Hill gets stronger
Don't be such a leper, what u got for la cabeza?
Hey homes, pass the cervaza
Before I have to go and push up on your resa
Hhhmm she's fine, son que fresca
Here homes have a hit of this yesca
Di yo enseño the leño lo prendo
Now you know, that I am in the centro
Where you live, si tu puedes
Nowadays you ain't shit without your puentes
Something like it's gangbang, vatos quieren BANG BANG!
Could of hung out with them now you callin me a insane
Salte de mi cara, sal de mi camino
Make way, for the the funky bilingual
[Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog]
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
Funky bilinguals hoe!
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
It's the latin lingo, baby!
Latin lingo baby (funky bilingual) funky bilingual
Funky bilingual...
Some of that old Latin funk, knowhatI'msayin?
[Sen Dog]
(What's up homey? Don't you know me?) Simon!
(Ain't you the brother of the mas pingon?) Straight up
And I'm down with La Raza
Kid Frost got my back, BOO-YAA! in la casa
Cause everyday things get a little crazier
As I step to the microphone area
First I claim my city, puro Los Angeles
Yeah (you know homes) that's where the calles is
Vato wouldn't know me, along with the heinas
Catchin all them slippin, for they such a one-timer
So when you see me at the party or the baile
Before I got here I was gaffled in the calle
Troop like a vacho who said I was baracho
Had an attitude, tried to play me macho
Just relax, calmado mijo
Sen Dog with the funky bilingual
[Chorus: B-Real and Sen Dog]
Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual
Funky bilingual
Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual
Funky bilingual
Latin lingo baby, funky bilingual
Funky bilingual... funky baby!
Yeah, I'd like to send peace, to my homeboy B-Real
Mellow Man Ace, Kid Frost, Ralph M the Mexican
And we're out
Writer: Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze, Michael Van Olden, Senen Reyes
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
The Funky Cypress Hill Shit
[B-Real]
I came to introduce a new type of juice
Stuff I invents to make you feel real loose
No you don't drink it, just let it sink it
Then start feelin it (The Funky Cypress Hill Shit!)
People ask, "Why do you sound so funny?"
They must be talkin bout my funky nasal vocal money
I take control, no need to blow my nose
Just click on the chumpy and feel the funky flows
for you and your bros, him and his hoes
You don't like it? Here's my dick -- bite it
There's nuttin you can do about the real one
It'sa ill sum with the ill juice, I'm +The Phuncky Feel One+
Sen'll +Psycobeta+, blast ya if he hasta
Tell em Sen (I'm the Psycobeta master!)
Strikin ya (hittin ya) buckin ya (f*ckin ya)
Like my buddha plant boy, I'm gonna keep PLUCKIN ya
Pickin ya, then I'm gonna roll you up and light ya
Despite your booty in sight to take my joint
To get to my point, I'm talkin about a ill trip
The Funky Cypress Hill Shit
[Sen Dog] The Funky Cypress Hill Shit! (4X)
[B-Real]
Let me tell you what happens when you squeeze, you're juiceless
You can't get loose, so now you're useless
Can't feel the funk so I guess I'll pump the wrist
How bout this mug kiss my blunt?
Right into ya, now you're feelin, the chemicals vibin
Are you realizin, that, it's gettin better?
Surprisin you, whether or not, your shit's together
from the high-pitched levels (comin from my rebels)
Cypress Hill imported it, boiled it in steam
But yo everything ain't what it seems
Cause the Cypress Hill material luxurious superior
Glory or memorial, historical physical
ingredients, gettin that immediate blend
Yo Sen take aim, and let the juice now extend
(Yeah I'm still comin atcha, but you don't need to duck down
Cause this is somethin different than a Psychobetabuckdown!)
[Sen Dog] The Funky Cypress Hill Shit! (4X)
..
[Sen] Kick that shit B-Real!
[B-Real]
Intellect filthy umm lingo
Dissed you, I control elements, suck on slow
(to get you all jazzed) from here to Tallahassee
This ain't Florida, so put away the O.J.
Never in your life will you wet this
This crazy business, now you're thinkin (?)
(?) it's good like some cheeba
The formula will run ya I'll start takin up a list
so you can get blitzed and you feel your head's twisted
Now insisted, you feel it to the brim
Yo I ain't him, I could never be them
This ain't poison, so let's go out on a limb
For the boys and girls who haven't had it yet
if you get too much, and roll it too straight
yo it's a fatal blow, somethin like a ?
Yeah it'll sting ya, (?)
See ya, I'm on it, somethin for the blunted
Just what you wanted, so you can feel the high
Smokin the buddha thai
Lungs expandin and now you're feelin it
Yeah, the funky cypress hill shit!
[Sen Dog] The Funky Cypress Hill Shit! (4X)
I came to introduce a new type of juice
Stuff I invents to make you feel real loose
No you don't drink it, just let it sink it
Then start feelin it (The Funky Cypress Hill Shit!)
People ask, "Why do you sound so funny?"
They must be talkin bout my funky nasal vocal money
I take control, no need to blow my nose
Just click on the chumpy and feel the funky flows
for you and your bros, him and his hoes
You don't like it? Here's my dick -- bite it
There's nuttin you can do about the real one
It'sa ill sum with the ill juice, I'm +The Phuncky Feel One+
Sen'll +Psycobeta+, blast ya if he hasta
Tell em Sen (I'm the Psycobeta master!)
Strikin ya (hittin ya) buckin ya (f*ckin ya)
Like my buddha plant boy, I'm gonna keep PLUCKIN ya
Pickin ya, then I'm gonna roll you up and light ya
Despite your booty in sight to take my joint
To get to my point, I'm talkin about a ill trip
The Funky Cypress Hill Shit
[Sen Dog] The Funky Cypress Hill Shit! (4X)
[B-Real]
Let me tell you what happens when you squeeze, you're juiceless
You can't get loose, so now you're useless
Can't feel the funk so I guess I'll pump the wrist
How bout this mug kiss my blunt?
Right into ya, now you're feelin, the chemicals vibin
Are you realizin, that, it's gettin better?
Surprisin you, whether or not, your shit's together
from the high-pitched levels (comin from my rebels)
Cypress Hill imported it, boiled it in steam
But yo everything ain't what it seems
Cause the Cypress Hill material luxurious superior
Glory or memorial, historical physical
ingredients, gettin that immediate blend
Yo Sen take aim, and let the juice now extend
(Yeah I'm still comin atcha, but you don't need to duck down
Cause this is somethin different than a Psychobetabuckdown!)
[Sen Dog] The Funky Cypress Hill Shit! (4X)
..
[Sen] Kick that shit B-Real!
[B-Real]
Intellect filthy umm lingo
Dissed you, I control elements, suck on slow
(to get you all jazzed) from here to Tallahassee
This ain't Florida, so put away the O.J.
Never in your life will you wet this
This crazy business, now you're thinkin (?)
(?) it's good like some cheeba
The formula will run ya I'll start takin up a list
so you can get blitzed and you feel your head's twisted
Now insisted, you feel it to the brim
Yo I ain't him, I could never be them
This ain't poison, so let's go out on a limb
For the boys and girls who haven't had it yet
if you get too much, and roll it too straight
yo it's a fatal blow, somethin like a ?
Yeah it'll sting ya, (?)
See ya, I'm on it, somethin for the blunted
Just what you wanted, so you can feel the high
Smokin the buddha thai
Lungs expandin and now you're feelin it
Yeah, the funky cypress hill shit!
[Sen Dog] The Funky Cypress Hill Shit! (4X)
Writer: JOSEPH ARTHUR ESPINOSA, JOHN GONZALEZ, LOUIS FREEZE, LARRY MUGGERUD
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group
Tres Equis
[Sen Dog]
Conozco una muchacha y ella es fina
Tremendos cocos y tambien es linda
A veces me la cojo en la cocina
Esta muchacha me chupa la pinga
Yo le dije dame tu bollo
Me dice negro loco tu no eres mi novio
A mi me importa un carajo
A mi cuarto meterte un palo
Por tu culo o por tu chocha
Y ya tu sabes que no me importa
Y ella me dice Senencito
Yo pienso que tu eres bien rico
Cuando me toca por mi frente
Ya tu me tienes bien caliente
Y cuando me tocas por detras
Ya tu sabes sin parar
Acabe de 'singar' y me levante
Fui al bano y me bane
Sali del cuarto y me esperaba
Con los ojos negros y bonita cara
Me pongo mi camisa y mi pantalon
Se rie y me dice: Negro sea dienton...
Uhmmm... estaba fina
Esta muchacha estaba tan pingada
Hay! cuando se lo meti
Cuando se lo meti, grito: Papi!
Estaba del carajo duro esto
No cuidate cuidate
Nunca habia singao yo como singue esa vez
Ah bueno.... estaba fina...
Conozco una muchacha y ella es fina
Tremendos cocos y tambien es linda
A veces me la cojo en la cocina
Esta muchacha me chupa la pinga
Yo le dije dame tu bollo
Me dice negro loco tu no eres mi novio
A mi me importa un carajo
A mi cuarto meterte un palo
Por tu culo o por tu chocha
Y ya tu sabes que no me importa
Y ella me dice Senencito
Yo pienso que tu eres bien rico
Cuando me toca por mi frente
Ya tu me tienes bien caliente
Y cuando me tocas por detras
Ya tu sabes sin parar
Acabe de 'singar' y me levante
Fui al bano y me bane
Sali del cuarto y me esperaba
Con los ojos negros y bonita cara
Me pongo mi camisa y mi pantalon
Se rie y me dice: Negro sea dienton...
Uhmmm... estaba fina
Esta muchacha estaba tan pingada
Hay! cuando se lo meti
Cuando se lo meti, grito: Papi!
Estaba del carajo duro esto
No cuidate cuidate
Nunca habia singao yo como singue esa vez
Ah bueno.... estaba fina...
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Born To Get Busy
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
I'm the the stiff and I do get nicer
Up the pussy when we in the same party, what
We can do this bro, we can't be maxin'
The figures is useless, unless we're taxin'
This is a perfection and my tribe's the cash dump
Known as a musician, imitator act up
Nobody's kid brother, that means I'm up for this task
And I set out from the beginning, to kick on the scratch
Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap
I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all
Comes very handy when it comes to pushin' shovin' and stuff
Then ask who is he though, I'm not the sissy
I'm stiff to neutral brother, and I'm born to get busy
Let us start to freak you and we'll make you feel alright
When you come to Cypress Hill
Make sure that you're down with the tribe
'Cause we're born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
B-B-Busy
As I stroll the ever ways of the Buddha masters
As I smoke my joint I feel one with the earth
But a brother like me keeps on walkin to get to the
Next sign then blaze the next joint
{The, physical effects of marijuana
The first sensations may be felt instantly
After having smoked grass or an hour after having eaten
Usually, they creep slowly into this stoned condition
Inch by inch, sliding upward, but to beatnik
The effects may come upon you, suddenly
And startle you full force}
{(The, physical effects of marijuana)
(There are four basic types of marijuana)
Psychologically, sometimes the early psychological stages
Coincide with the early physical stages experienced while stoned
The famous 'Mind Expansion'
Comes after the famous physical sensation
Grass, heightens and distorts
For example, profound revelations
You may think you have profound revelations, only to discover}
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
I'm the the stiff and I do get nicer
Up the pussy when we in the same party, what
We can do this bro, we can't be maxin'
The figures is useless, unless we're taxin'
This is a perfection and my tribe's the cash dump
Known as a musician, imitator act up
Nobody's kid brother, that means I'm up for this task
And I set out from the beginning, to kick on the scratch
Using modern technique, I place a beat in a rap
I went to learn acquire knowledge of a scholar went to college, all
Comes very handy when it comes to pushin' shovin' and stuff
Then ask who is he though, I'm not the sissy
I'm stiff to neutral brother, and I'm born to get busy
Let us start to freak you and we'll make you feel alright
When you come to Cypress Hill
Make sure that you're down with the tribe
'Cause we're born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
Born to get busy, born to get busy baby
B-B-Busy
As I stroll the ever ways of the Buddha masters
As I smoke my joint I feel one with the earth
But a brother like me keeps on walkin to get to the
Next sign then blaze the next joint
{The, physical effects of marijuana
The first sensations may be felt instantly
After having smoked grass or an hour after having eaten
Usually, they creep slowly into this stoned condition
Inch by inch, sliding upward, but to beatnik
The effects may come upon you, suddenly
And startle you full force}
{(The, physical effects of marijuana)
(There are four basic types of marijuana)
Psychologically, sometimes the early psychological stages
Coincide with the early physical stages experienced while stoned
The famous 'Mind Expansion'
Comes after the famous physical sensation
Grass, heightens and distorts
For example, profound revelations
You may think you have profound revelations, only to discover}
Writer: LARRY MUGGERUD, SENEN REYES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Cypress Hill is the debut studio album by the American hip hop group Cypress Hill. It was released on August 13, 1991, by Ruffhouse Records and Columbia Records. The recording sessions were held at Image Recording Studios in Los Angeles from August 1990 to May 1991. The album was produced by DJ Muggs.
The album was critically and commercially successful and received major airplay on urban and college radio. The album went double platinum in the U.S. with over 2 million units sold. The album is broken down track-by-track by Cypress Hill in Brian Coleman's book Check the Technique, published in 2007.
Performed By:
Cypress HillThe album was critically and commercially successful and received major airplay on urban and college radio. The album went double platinum in the U.S. with over 2 million units sold. The album is broken down track-by-track by Cypress Hill in Brian Coleman's book Check the Technique, published in 2007.
Genre(s): West Coast hip hop, Latin hip hop
Producer(s): DJ Muggs
Length: 46:54
Released: August 13th, 1991
Year: 1991