Luyện nghe bài hát Throw Your Hands in The Air

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

is the word, when I display my rappin' forte
Quicker than O.J., hey
I freaks my shit, E the lyrical
Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to ya

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

Believe me not, Im like three sixes
Im doper than the Rock remixes
Never through the crowd sluggish
Im hardcore to the bone, Im thuggish

The Green-Eyed Bandit, I be Erick
I gets real
And one for the and two for the bass
I take it to your with this here lyrical mace

And if you dont know, yall better
Im coming through with speed, with pounds of

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

So who wants to be the nigga to die?
Then try and this, Buddha blessed Gemini
You get thrown home in a coffin'
stuff dont make it back, very often

I got Erick to care of the Sermon
to ashes, dust, bodies burnin'
Bustin' open the to the temple
Takin' you to the dark side of mental

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 your in the air

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

I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind
up on the pen, be like he the bomb, dicky
These off-keys MCs me, they wont get off me
So I kill 'em and use 'em as walkie talkies

up my level, adjust my voice pitch
Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave crew with
Boom bip or some two and two
Raw silk you do it to my music

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

In your back yard, word to God, Def
my nigga Keith in the place takin' charge
Word up youll get hurt up like the callin' murder
Youre deaf 'cuz I freak shit you neva of

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

Steppin' to the in the hill you cant hang
The original baby gangsta on Compton thang
Dont slip, the late night is when I dip
Boo-yaa is the from a lonely clip

Cant feel me, if I was crack try to steal me
Heard you, and your little crew, peel me
Keep your on your hood, you get got
The Green-eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Spock

You wish you hang, like I hang
Dwells in the CPT, the thing
G, the finger, Ima get you
Hit you, the Tech 9, Ima you

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

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