Throw Your Hands in the Air

Yeah Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five

Soul Assassins

Cypress Hill joint.

Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up... ...so get it on kid! [Verse One: Erick Sermon]

Fresh is the word, when

I display my rappin forte

Quicker done than

O.J., hey

I freaks my *****t,

E the lyrical master

Stress me out, no doubt,

I might have to blast ya

Let me ask ya, can

I gets busy one time?

And unwind and chill, with

Cypress Hill

Huh, I go on with my bad self

I'm the four pound toter, the

Phil blunt smoker

Believe me not,

I'm wicked like three sixes

I'm ****r than the

Pete Rock remixes

Never walk through the crowd sluggish

I'm hardcore to the

Bone, I'm

Thuggish Ruggish

The Green-

Eyed, Bandit,

I be ERRRI

CK SERRRMO

N I gets real determined

And one for the trouble, and two for the bass

I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace

And if you don't know, y'all better recognize

I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of ***** [Verse Two: B-Real]

Ahh *****t, another one of those gangsta hits

*****z wanna get busy with the ultimate

Fools get real, yo

I'm representin the

Hill With chips and clips and tons of blue steel

So who wants to be the first ***** to die?

Then try and test this, buddha blessed

Gemini You get thrown sent home in a coffin

Punk stuff don't make it back, very often

I got Erick to take care of the

Sermon Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin

Bustin open the doors to the temple

Takin you to the dark side of your mental [Chorus: B-Real]

Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air

Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air [Chorus] [Verse Three: Redman]

I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy finger up on the pen, be like "He the bomb, *****y!"

These off-keys

MC's hawk me, they won't get off me

So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies [bzzzzt]

Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch

Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what

I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two *****t

Raw silk, cuz

YOU DO IT

TO MY MUSI

C *Funk Doctor

Spock* lock the hypest individual, to put criminal in diapers

With my *****

E and Cypress, what

I write *****

You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis in your back yard, word to

God, Def Squad!

With my *****

Keith in the place takin charge

Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder

You're deaf cuz

I freak *****t you neva heard of [Chorus] [Verse Four: MC Eiht]

Steppin to the park in the

Hill you can't hang

The original baby gangsta on this

Compton thang

Don't slip, the late night hype, is when

I dip Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip

Can't feel me, if

I was crack you'd try to steal me

Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me

Keep your hands on your hood, you get got

The Green-

Eyed Bandit,

Cypress Hill, and the

Funk Doctor

Spock You wish you could hang, like

I hang Dwells in the

C-P-T, the hood thing

G, the trigga finger,

I'ma get you

Hit you, the

Tech 9, I'ma split you

Ain't no poppin, no stoppin

Tick to the tock, tick tock

I hit your block

Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this

I squeeze, ***** please, the

E down with

Cypress [Chorus] [Chorus] [Outro: Sen Dog]

Aight, for everybody

All our peeps out on the corners

All the alleyways

For all our decesed

Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets

Nineteen ninety-five

Soul Assassins in your mind