Luyện nghe bài hát Throw Your Hands In The Air (Remix)

Yeah, bust how we gonna bounce off ninety-five
Soul assassins, 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 my shit, E the lyrical master
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 with my bad
Im the four toter, the Phil blunt smoker

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

The Green-Eyed Bandit, I be Sermon
I real determined
And one for the trouble and two for the
I take it to your face with this here lyrical

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

Ah shit, one of those gangsta hits
Niggaz wanna get busy with the
Fools get real, yo Im representin' the
With chips and clips and tons of blue

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

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

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, throw hands in the air

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

I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka the mind itchy
Finger up on the pen, be he the bomb, dicky
These off-keys MCs hawk me, 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
bip or some two and two shit
Raw silk you do it to my music

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

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

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 your in the air

to the park in the hill you cant hang
The original baby on this Compton thang
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
you, and your little crew, wanna peel me
Keep your hands on hood, you get got
The Green-eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Spock

You wish you could hang, like I
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, tick tock, I hit your
Throw your hands in the air, dont this
I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with

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

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

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