Cypress Swamp - Dub Spencer & Trance Hill

(Low rider) (Low rider) (Low rider) Aw, comin' through fo' real, we, Cypress Hill Oh baby, got that crunk for yo' trunk goin' gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers playin' games in the street We got that low rider scrapin', dippin' on three (low rider) 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 thing that make you feel alright (Low rider) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin' freaky tonight 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 rider) 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 rider) You wanna trip? Then I got luggage I stuff you in and send you off 'cause you ain't rugged Aw, comin' through fo' real, we, Cypress Hill Oh baby, got that crunk for yo' trunk goin' gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers playin' games in the street (Low rider) We got that low rider scrapin', dippin' on three So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air (Low rider) We tear the roof off the mother, lady, let down yo' hair Playa do that thang that make you feel alright (Low rider) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin' freaky tonight '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 rider) 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, ya pudo les madre (Low rider) 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 rider) Hands in the air with the pinky rings Soul Assassins runnin' everythin' To all you vatos, make sure you check this In every barrio I'm well respected Aw, comin' through fo' real, we, Cypress Hill, oh baby Got that crunk, for yo' trunk goin' gangsta crazy We some real life hustlers, playin' games in the street (Low rider) We got that low rider scrapin', dippin' on three So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air (Low rider) We tear the roof off the mother, lady, let down yo' hair Playa do that thang that make you feel alright (Low rider) Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin' freaky tonight (Low rider) Low rider Low rider Low rider Low rider Low rider Low rider Low rider

[Sen dog] Bout to mash these niggaz man Don't come in my backyard motherfucker Hahaha, b-real and the dog, motherfucker! Ha! yeah Here we go y'all, that's the nigga head dog Lunatic smokin loops, loose in your sector Got my eye on em, on the apparatus Like a bone to a dog, yea you know i gotta have it Anywhere you get it shit, and i'ma grab it Turn around stares to your face and i jab it Drop you, like one of those ill bad habits Hunt you, like a hillbilly huntin a rabbit Cuttin niggaz up like muggs on the wheels For reals, penetentiary steel Pull heads to bed from the choke of a headlock Fadin baldheads to perms, even dreadlocks Bwoy, rudebwoy with me style I can get foul or wild, or just cool for a while Chorus: b-real, sen dog (Checkmate fool!) hang em high Got the live shit, bang em whenever you/he wanna try Shoot to thrill, be at the hill, i/we take em all (Checkmate fool!) wherever the pawns fall * Repeat 2x * [B-real] Look look punk, every way you get shook To the pawn, takin out the rook, off of the book Lights get tooken, taken you for satan You can't breathe, no need to look up and see me The last hope, when you mellow you call whoever For the hype shit, you call the hill, put it together Runnin this game, bringin the same, raw shit Over the hills, through the city we come equipped To the letter, keepin your temperature down low What i reveal, the good shit to heal all souls Makin you roll late night, you trippin, my game's tight To the new shit i bring, never the same hype So push that shit off, get up, don't let off No matter how much blood you spit up You could never be, fuckin with greenthumb The outcome's specific, you spliff it, collapsed lung We hit hard, breakin your guard, you can't tell When the bells ring, bustin your shell, the pawn fell Chorus (Peek-a-boo, you fuck you!) [Sen dog] I'ma freak that funk yea slam it in the trunk I'ma kill all junk with the suicide clunk Ain't nobody came my way, talkin bout The westside of l.a., so whatever Punk-ass click you claim, you keep bumpin that shit And elevate your frame, cause i want that Big-time, asshole, studio gangsta Worth a lot of shit, but that's not the main factor [B-real] My nigga sen's rollin again, remember when We rocked shows, battlin foes, the time's been long Strong with the styles, you ain't hear to win Like blood pourin out of the pen, the ink stains Slim chance if it gets in your brain, the hot flash Got you heated with repeated attacks over the tracks Smack niggaz up, back niggaz up, hack niggaz up Jack niggaz up, hangin the wack niggaz up Snowball effect, we rollin the city limits Crushin the bitch-ass niggaz with all the gimmicks Chorus [Sen dog] Checkmate fool!

(B-Real) I rolled you up like my Rizla Cut you up, with my sisters You wanna get us - yeah, the venom spitters Your style's trash: don't litter You got the jitters the hardhitters No quitters your soul quivers When you see the gats blazin, get out the street now There ain't no use for you beggin to turn the heat down You label me coldblooded You wanna warm me up with hot lead the gat thudded You can't cut it You wack, but it's - no use your mouth shut it Shootin arrows diamond-studded, and still budded You got to love it, you better chase the paper all day So you can walk down the long platinum hallway But now the fools are minutemade; They get played for a minute Then played out they never get back in it Gun park I bring chalk for your body outlined on the floor You got hit by the 4-4! (Chorus: B-Real) You're in the game called life, son - how you're livin it Street corner kids growin up blowin up You chase dreams you want the highlife, with the skylights But in the end your soul's lost, you lost the shine right Never turn your back ever, on niggaz true to you Stand alone for the cheddar - and they'll be through with you The highlife; yeah, the highlife The highlife; yeah, the highlife (B-Real) You gotta hang out with B. Reezy, and take it easy It's gettin greasy, I had to learn how to beat me That's when you go for dolo, and get your meal ticket And still kick it hardcore I'm runnin real with it Niggaz getting softcore, the people want more Hardcore shit that's why I give them an encore Curtains opened, you see the people applaud feelin it You can't figure out the formula so you're stealin it Can't stand unoriginal cats with minimal Skills that's criminal - you fake bitches! You're lookin for riches, in the wrong places The faces of death look you in the eye cut off your breath When you fall feel your knees shatter The bones breakin with your weak blatter Pissin on yourself it don't matter Dead weight, the bed waits for you on the set date Dreams gone instead fate didn't hesitate To put you away, close the gates now you're locked out Your life: cable, with all the porn channels blocked out (damn!) What you good for? Nothin, so be gone suckers Have a nice trip see you motherfuckers! (Chorus) (Sen Dog) I live for the highlife, get my mind right Fuck the fame, the game and the limelights Fools that be out there tryin to duplicate But they can't match the aura, can't impersonate See the first things that comes to pass, is the blast Of the Cypress Hill weed funk blazin up a path You can't help, but inhale and get strong You need that good shit all up in your lungs I live fast, and keep energy in motion Jah bless, so I feel I been chosen But I know, This of he who conquers You gotta come strong and sound off like thunder I check myself and make sure I'm comin real tight Rhyme for my fam, the G's and the highlife (B-Real) The highlife - hah, hah The highlife yeah (Chorus)