Cypress Hill

[B-Real]
I rolled you up like my Rizla
Cut you up, with my sisters
You wanna get us - yeah, the venom spitters
Your style's trash: don't litter
You got the jitters the hardhitters
No quitters your soul quivers
When you see the gats blazin, get out the street now
There ain't no use for you beggin to turn the heat down
You label me coldblooded
You wanna warm me up with hot lead the gat thudded
You can't cut it
You wack, but it's - no use your mouth shut it
Shootin arrows diamond-studded, and still budded
You got to love it, you better chase the paper all day
So you can walk down the long platinum hallway
But now the fools are minutemade;
they get played for a minute
then played out they never get back in it
Gun park I bring chalk for your body outlined on the floor
You got hit by the 4-4!
Chorus: B-Real
You're in the game called life, son - how you're livin it
Street corner kids growin up blowin up
You chase dreams you want the highlife, with the skylights
But in the end your soul's lost, you lost the shine right
Never turn your back ever, on niggaz true to you
Stand alone for the cheddar - and they'll be through with you
The highlife; yeah, the highlife
The highlife; yeah, the highlife
[B-Real]
You gotta hang out with B. Reezy, and take it easy
It's gettin greasy, I had to learn how to beat me
That's when you go for dolo, and get your meal ticket
And still kick it hardcore I'm runnin real with it
Niggaz getting softcore, the people want more
hardcore shit that's why I give them an encore