ain't even talkin' Diamonds on my tongue, got my Chevy moonwalkin' Ten bricks on my Bart Simpson, just look My watch, 35 pounds of kush My ring, 36 oz's my nig My
I can feel love that you sticked in my brain I'm feelin' loked, I provoke everyone around me They're going choked It's me and my dawg D-R-double-0-P-Y
Cause when you're messin with me -- you know what? You can swallow a live grenade and you still won't blow up! Pickin up the microphone you shouldn't
light, that's how we do with one and other You just met that bitch tonight And now you actin' like you love her Fuck you, you a whore I gotta keep it
you're high (high) I walk by so F a drive (by) I swing up in it battin average is half as good as Reggie Jack Is dats why you talk backwards and uh chumps
Street Science, you're on the air What do you feel when you hear a record like 2Pac's new one? I love 2Pac's new record Right, but don't you feel like
to my strap Broads is watchin me they wanna leech to my trap Tha Jesus Christ on my neck reach to my lap I teach you to rap in my Sunday School These
pretend Pick up my pen, in my hand One of my trusted friend friend, hey Open it let's see if we're real, we all suited Beg my pardon to Martin Baby we
without my homeboys Fuck with my set, you get your crew strangled I won?t be convicted like Jimmy Coonan And you not a gangster, who the fuck you think you
in my right hand, my plug's in my left hand, punk Cypress Hill worldwide, you just a local Don't anger me, or you can hear it in my vocal You don't want
to 3, 3, 3 I got my lyric book started barsing, rhythem set my mind free free free I'm writing alot, unlikely to stop, look at the clock blud' 3, 3, 3
out of my center, if you ain't down with the inner You lightweight punk soprano singers better never bang with the tenor I'ma give it to you like a rogue
you deposit Talkin' outta line, talkin' outta order Nigga outta line, I put him outta order You fuckin' with them lines I'll get you outta order My money
Everytime you hear my vocals Comin' out them low lows From L.A. to NY On the Red Eye Teflon in my luggage You got to love it I'm thuggin' my street slang
'm a little bit different than others, I'll tell you the story I know bout the church and you my brother, you my brother [Chorus] [Verse 2:] If kid you