Luyện nghe bài hát Throw Your Hands in The Air

Yeah, how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five
Soul assassins, Hill joint
Yo, we want everybody out to throw their hands up
So get it on kid

Fresh is the word, when I display my forte
Quicker than O.J., hey
I freaks my shit, E the master
Stress me out, no doubt, I have to blast ya

Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one
And unwind and chill, Cypress Hill
Huh, I go on with my bad
Im the four pound toter, the Phil smoker

Believe me not, Im wicked three sixes
Im doper than the Pete remixes
walk through the crowd sluggish
Im to the bone, Im thuggish ruggish

The Bandit, I be Erick Sermon
I gets real
And one for the trouble and two for the
I take it to your with this here lyrical mace

And if you know, yall better recognize
Im coming with speed, with pounds of weed

Ah shit, another one of gangsta hits
Niggaz wanna get busy the ultimate
Fools get real, yo Im the Hill
With chips and clips and of blue steel

So who wants to be the first to die?
try and test this, Buddha blessed Gemini
You get thrown sent in a coffin'
Punk stuff dont make it back, often

I got to take care of the Sermon
Ashes to ashes, dust, burnin'
Bustin' open the doors to the
Takin' you to the dark side of your

Kickin' it to the on the corners
In the alleys, throw your in the air
Kickin' it to the on the corners
In the alleys, throw your in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the
In the alleys, throw hands in the air
Kickin' it to the on the corners
In the alleys, your hands in the air

I rhyme tricky, the sticky with the mind itchy
Finger up on the pen, be he the bomb, dicky
These MCs hawk me, they wont get off me
So I 'em softly and use 'em as walkie talkies

Turn up my level, adjust my voice
Hoist this diagnosis, is what I leave your crew with
Boom bip or some two and two
Raw 'cuz you do it to my music

Funk Doctor Spock, the hypest
Individual, to put in diapers
With my nigga E and Cypress, I write bitch
You swore, it was a war, crisis

In back yard, word to God, Def Squad
With my Keith in the place takin' charge
Word up youll get hurt up like the jury murder
deaf 'cuz I freak shit you neva heard of

Kickin' it to the brothers on the
In the alleys, throw hands in the air
it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, your hands in the air

Steppin' to the park in the you cant hang
The original baby on this Compton thang
Dont slip, the late night hype is I dip
Boo-yaa is the sound from a clip

feel me, if I was crack youd try to steal me
Heard you, and your little crew, wanna me
your hands on your hood, you get got
The Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock

You wish you could hang, I hang
in the CPT, the hood thing
G, the finger, Ima get you
Hit you, the 9, Ima split you

no poppin', no stoppin'
Tick to the tock, tock, I hit your block
Throw your in the air, dont bite this
I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with

it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw your in the air
Kickin' it to the brothers on the
In the alleys, throw hands in the air

Kickin' it to the brothers on the
In the alleys, your hands in the air
it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, throw hands in the air

Aight, for everybody, all our out on the corners
All the alleyways, for all our
Incarcerated peeps, on the streets
Nineteen ninety-five, soul assassins in your