Cypress Hill - Throw Your Hands In The Air Lyrics
Intro: sen dogYeahBust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five soul assassinsCypress hill joint.Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up......so get it on kid!Verse one: erick sermonFresh is the word, when I display my rappin forteQuicker done than o.j., heyI freaks my shit, e the lyrical masterStress 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 hillHuh, I go on with my bad selfIm the four pound toter, the phil blunt smokerBelieve me not, Im wicked like three sixesIm doper than the pete rock remixesNever walk through the crowd sluggishIm hardcore to the bone, Im thuggish ruggishThe green-eyed, bandit, I be errrick serrrmonI gets real determinedAnd one for the trouble, and two for the bassI take it to your face with this here lyrical maceAnd if you dont know, yall better recognizeIm coming through with speed, with pounds of weedVerse two: b-realAhh shit, another one of those gangsta hitsNiggaz wanna get busy with the ultimateFools get real, yo Im representin the hillWith chips and clips and tons of blue steelSo who wants to be the first nigga to die?Then try and test this, buddha blessed geminiYou get thrown sent home in a coffinPunk stuff dont make it back, very oftenI got erick to take care of the sermonAshes to ashes, dust, bodies burninBustin open the doors to the templeTakin you to the dark side of your mentalChorus: b-realKickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleysThrow your hands in the airKickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleysThrow your hands in the airChorusVerse three: redmanI rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchyFinger up on the pen, be like he the bomb, dicky!These off-keys mcs hawk me, they wont get off meSo I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt*Turn up my level adjust my voice pitchHoist this diagnosis, comatosisIs what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shitRaw silk, cuz you do it to my music*funk doctor spock* lock the hypestIndividual, to put criminal in diapersWith my nigga e and cypress, what I write *****You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisisIn your back yard, word to god, def squad!With my nigga keith in the place takin chargeWord up youll get hurt up like the jury callin murderYoure deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard ofChorusVerse four: mc eihtSteppin to the park in the hill you cant hangThe original baby gangsta on this compton thangDont slip, the late night hype, is when I dipBoo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clipCant feel me, if I was crack youd try to steal meHeard you, and your little crew, wanna peel meKeep your hands on your hood, you get gotThe green-eyed bandit, cypress hill, and the funk doctor spockYou wish you could hang, like I hangDwells in the c-p-t, the hood thingG, the trigga finger, ima get youHit you, the tech 9, ima split youAint no poppin, no stoppinTick to the tock, tick tock I hit your blockThrow your hands in the air, dont bite thisI squeeze, nigga please, the e down with cypressChorusChorusOutro: sen dogAight, for everybodyAll our peeps out on the cornersAll the alleywaysFor all our decesedIncarcerated peeps, brothers on the streetsNineteen ninety-fiveSoul assassins in your mind
