Cypress Hill Southland Killers Lyrics

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[MC Ren]
Yeah, y'all know what the **** this is
Emcee **********in' Ren up in this *****, *****
Yeah, all y'all *****-*** *****s out here talkin' all that ****
We 'bout to drop this ************ on y'all like this
Punk *** *****s out here, *****
We some Southland Killers in this ************

[MC Ren]
*****s all across town, all up in the suburbs
While *****s makin' faces like The Rock on the curb
***** People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold
And groupie *****s bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?)
Big-*** cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's)
And hos wit' big lips doin' what they supposed (yeah)
Didn't have **** till I started to bust
And y'all got **** 'cause of my balls are cussed
Ren and Cypress Hill - they ain't liver than us
***** legendary villain, who started the fuss
***** double glock, cocked, get your **** rocked
Get your crib knocked, *****, have that rib popped
Under bosses and trouble; they under my rubble
Clone ************s always the villain like The Hubble
**** your bubble; I bust them shits
Plaques and ****, grab my ****, spit these hits

All my *****s, do you want to ride wit' us? (Do ya want to ride wit us?) (Killers!)
Throw your clips up, man, we's about to bust (man, we's about to bust) (Killers!)
Cypress Hill click, yeah, we ready for war (yeah, we ready for war) (Killers!)
All y'all *****s better just hit the floor (Killers!)

[King Tee]
I'm close to the best thing on the West Wing
Blown out your set, flames when the best sing
It's a rep thing; haters feel they chest pain
They feel it in they heart: I was there to test things
Didn't arrest aim, the bullet-proof vest came
These *****s shoot first, then askin' check names
It's less strain
It's all real; I bet fame; it's a chess game
Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right)
I might sound funny out here
But, really, *****s get money out here
And, hey, everyday is sunny out here
So listen, don't play dummy out here
King try for bust, make your whole pack run
Stacked enough cash, so now I stack guns
Fat ones, all cold and black ones
Southland Killin' - it's just how that's done


[Sen Dog and B-Real]
You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill
When your **** talks is when die on the Hill
We get hot on the heel, rely on the steel
When your paper gets pulled, and you design is steeled
Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will
Busters get slayed!

When you **** around with Real
Take time to feel what I'm tellin' you hos (tellin' you hos)
You couldn't **** around with me if I was sellin' you blows
Just goes to show the incredible skill tell
***** *****, now you trapped under my wig well
Gettin' trampled, dumped on, and thumped on
Scraped on the six-five with the hand on the pump song

[Sen Dog]
Don't even **** with these Southland grands
We the vatos that run on Los Angeles
Call me Mad Dog if you think you know me
If you're not sure, then turn around and leave slowly!