Cypress Hill - Strike The Match Lyrics
[22 seconds instrumental][B-Real:]I'm loaded like a Shotgun. - Got one - under my coat!It's late night, no stage fright. - I'm going for brokeWhile I'm hittin' my smoke.I'm contemplatin' how to hit 'em hard, hit 'em fast, get away; it's all she wrote!It's a heartbreaking habit, when you gotta have itYou grab it! - Stare at an album, so good at it!Certified hood magic! - Look at it!Throwin' too much in your face. - And money's gone; so am I so long?But now my hustle's changed. - No more stickin' you up!I've got some weed, I know that for sure; that can pick you up!Just spark it up! I got a dime or a twenty sack!All sales are final. - Don't ask for your money back!Don't even look at the money, stack! - It's funny thatIt still wasn't enough, I'm like still searchin' for honey flack!No I'm servin' the boulders, looking over my shoulders!Every step that I take - a rock might knock me over![Chorus: B-Real]Strike - the match! - Sparks - the flame!It starts - the fire that burns down the system!Hit 'em hard! Hit 'em fast! - Keep the gas on 'em!We're gonna char! - Get the dogs, go gas on 'em![Sen Dog:]The hoodrange - a brace to be a gangsterThey grew up! - And blew up the rock stages!A long way from the gate, but I got Gauges!Dumb 'em out! Pullin guns out on strangers!A bunch a wild niggas, nobody can tame us!The sixteen in the clip. - One in the chamber!Drive-by's, homicide; shit! I gotta roll a dime!Every day I ran away, my life's one Columbine.And I'd like to see heads get [? ]So it's a problem? - That's how I solve 'em, there's no discussion!Go for my mind, tell it's task force, rush 'em!Until the day all I gotta say - is: "***** 'em! "[Chorus][B-Real:]Post it on the top son! - Claw some!Makin' my way throught the jungle, and then they like I call something![? ] hustle, the streets needTo a hit single, put down *****, [? ] bring a leader!When you're in the top spot, you better be top notch;Or not watch, the haters take pop shots!It's non-stop shit talkin', [? ] the conflictWhoever slick talkin', I'm ready to harm him!Disarm him! - Send his ass away in a coffinMy game is [? ], you don't seein' it that often!But every [? ] day I felt time slip awayLike a heavy ticket on the train to an early grave!I never worried hater, that what happens, I'm okay!Reap what you sough! - And every kinda game you playNever had a handout! - Had my hustle's brand out![? ] brand out! You wish my luck would run out![Chorus]
