Throw Your Hands In the Air

Yeah, bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five

Soul assassins, Cypress Hill joint

Yo, we want everybody out there to throw their hands up

So get it on kidFresh is the word, when I display my rappin' forte

Quicker done than O.J., hey

I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master

Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast yaLet me ask ya, can I gets busy one time?

And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill

Huh, I go on with my bad self

Im the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smokerBelieve me not, Im wicked like three sixes

Im doper than the Pete Rock remixes

Never walk through the crowd sluggish

Im hardcore to the bone, Im thuggish ruggishThe Green-Eyed Bandit, I be Erick Sermon

I gets real determined

And one for the trouble and two for the bass

I take it to your face with this here lyrical maceAnd if you dont know, yall better recognize

Im coming through with speed, with pounds of weedAh shit, another one of those gangsta hits

Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate

Fools get real, yo Im representin' the Hill

With chips and clips and tons of blue steelSo who wants to be the first nigga to die?

Then try and test this, Buddha blessed Gemini

You get thrown sent home in a coffin'

Punk stuff dont make it back, very oftenI got Erick to take care of the Sermon

Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin'

Bustin' open the doors to the temple

Takin' you to the dark side of your mentalKickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the airKickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the airI rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy

Finger up on the pen, be like he the bomb, dicky

These off-keys MCs hawk me, they wont get off me

So I kill 'em softly and use 'em as walkie talkiesTurn up my level, adjust my voice pitch

Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave your crew with

Boom bip or some two and two shit

Raw silk 'cuz you do it to my musicFunk Doctor Spock, lock the hypest

Individual, to put criminal in diapers

With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch

You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisisIn your back yard, word to God, Def Squad

With my nigga Keith in the place takin' charge

Word up youll get hurt up like the jury callin' murder

Youre deaf 'cuz I freak shit you neva heard ofKickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the airSteppin' to the park in the hill you cant hang

The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang

Dont slip, the late night hype is when I dip

Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clipCant feel me, if I was crack youd try to steal me

Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me

Keep your hands on your hood, you get got

The Green-eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor SpockYou wish you could hang, like I hang

Dwells in the CPT, the hood thing

G, the trigga finger, Ima get you

Hit you, the Tech 9, Ima split youAint no poppin', no stoppin'

Tick to the tock, tick tock, I hit your block

Throw your hands in the air, dont bite this

I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with CypressKickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the airKickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners

In the alleys, throw your hands in the airAight, for everybody, all our peeps out on the corners

All the alleyways, for all our deceased

Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets

Nineteen ninety-five, soul assassins in your mind