CYPRESS HILL - Throw Your Hands In The Air lyrics

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Intro: sen dog<br><br>Yeah<br>Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five soul assassins<br>Cypress hill joint.<br>Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up...<br>...so get it on kid!<br><br>Verse one: erick sermon<br><br>Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin forte<br>Quicker done than o.j., hey<br>I freaks my shit, e the lyrical master<br>Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya<br>Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time? <br>And unwind and chill, with cypress hill<br>Huh, I go on with my bad self<br>I'm the four pound toter, the phil blunt smoker<br>Believe me not, I'm wicked like three sixes<br>I'm doper than the pete rock remixes<br>Never walk through the crowd sluggish<br>I'm hardcore to the bone, I'm thuggish ruggish<br>The green-eyed, bandit, I be errrick serrrmon<br>I gets real determined<br>And one for the trouble, and two for the bass<br>I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace<br>And if you don't know, y'all better recognize<br>I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of weed<br><br>Verse two: b-real<br><br>Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hits<br>Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate<br>Fools get real, yo I'm representin the hill<br>With chips and clips and tons of blue steel<br>So who wants to be the first nigga to die? <br>Then try and test this, buddha blessed gemini<br>You get thrown sent home in a coffin<br>Punk stuff don't make it back, very often<br>I got erick to take care of the sermon<br>Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin<br>Bustin open the doors to the temple<br>Takin you to the dark side of your mental<br><br>Chorus: b-real<br><br>Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys<br>Throw your hands in the air<br>Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys<br>Throw your hands in the air<br><br>Chorus<br><br>Verse three: redman<br><br>I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy<br>Finger up on the pen, be like he the bomb, dicky!<br>These off-keys mc's hawk me, they won't get off me<br>So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt*<br>Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch<br>Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis<br>Is what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shit<br>Raw silk, cuz you do it to my music<br>*funk doctor spock* lock the hypest<br>Individual, to put criminal in diapers<br>With my nigga e and cypress, what I write bitch<br>You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis<br>In your back yard, word to god, def squad!<br>With my nigga keith in the place takin charge<br>Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder<br>You're deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard of<br><br>Chorus<br><br>Verse four: mc eiht<br><br>Steppin to the park in the hill you can't hang<br>The original baby gangsta on this compton thang<br>Don't slip, the late night hype, is when I dip<br>Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip<br>Can't feel me, if I was crack you'd try to steal me<br>Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me<br>Keep your hands on your hood, you get got<br>The green-eyed bandit, cypress hill, and the funk doctor spock<br>You wish you could hang, like I hang<br>Dwells in the c-p-t, the hood thing<br>G, the trigga finger, i'ma get you<br>Hit you, the tech 9, i'ma split you<br>Ain't no poppin, no stoppin<br>Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block<br>Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this<br>I squeeze, nigga please, the e down with cypress<br><br>Chorus<br><br>Chorus<br><br>Outro: sen dog<br><br>Aight, for everybody<br>All our peeps out on the corners<br>All the alleyways<br>For all our decesed<br>Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets<br>Nineteen ninety-five<br>Soul assassins in your mind