Luyện nghe bài hát Throw Your Hands in The Air

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

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

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

me not, Im wicked like three sixes
Im than the Pete Rock remixes
Never walk the crowd sluggish
Im to the bone, Im thuggish ruggish

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

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

Ah shit, another one of those gangsta
Niggaz get busy with the ultimate
get real, yo Im representin' the Hill
With and clips and tons of blue steel

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

I got Erick to take care of the
to ashes, dust, bodies burnin'
Bustin' the doors to the temple
Takin' you to the dark of your mental

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

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

Turn up my level, adjust my 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 Spock, lock the hypest
Individual, to put in diapers
With my E and Cypress, what I write bitch
You swore, it was a war, crisis

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

it to the brothers on the corners
In the alleys, your hands in the air
it to the brothers 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 this Compton
slip, the late night hype is when I dip
Boo-yaa is the sound a lonely clip

Cant me, if I was crack youd try to steal me
Heard you, and your crew, wanna peel me
Keep hands 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 hood
G, the finger, Ima get you
Hit you, the 9, Ima split you

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

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, your hands 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 hands in the air

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