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 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, oh Now you can't see I'm real great? Check out the story to the glory of the real estate All these motherfuckers that wanna run up on the Hill Step off! You know why? This shit is all about boo-yaa, 'cause I said step off! 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, [Incomprehensible] 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', you'll like a train stoker 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 Heh heh heh, another soft pussy motherfucker Another fly verse straight from the deficit Another scripture of B-Real, yeah, get funky, real This is the Lower Eastside of things You know what I'm sayin', Cypress Hill 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 Everythin' 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 Yo, I told you to keep down brother The motherfuckers 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 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 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 © SOUL ASSASSIN MUSIC; MCA MUSIC PUBLISHING; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com