Lyrics:
Cruncher, word to Arch Bunker
Give me the mic and I'll liggedy-light it up like Uncle Fester
Microphone checka, one, two checka, oh yes sir
I tiggedy take
From the moment I go to bed 'till I wake up
All day, this is all I can think about, baby (Oh, yeah)
So I go straight at opponents' heads with this
end
Yeah, see me, time to destroy this culture of PC
Go on a spree, I'm free, gives me nutting but glee
When they see me, they flee, take a knee
You
slick nigga
not a new jack nigga
or buster bumping bullshit
my rhymes will smack and oil you in the forehead
at the pulpit
just give up the funk
yeah)
Walk in the spot, I'm drippy (oh, that's drippy, yeah)
I'm in your city (city, ha)
Shawty pull up, give me lippy (yeah, yeah)
Bro got the blicky
judge
I'll be the judge of that
Besides, our judges are only
Going to give their opinions
The final decision will be made
By me truly
Then would'nt that
Cream",
Cypress Hill is here to give you a nice dream,
Speak it like a rolla', and you know it's rolled tightly,
I'm like the funky beat, so, why ya
Cream",
Cypress Hill is here to give you a nice dream,
Speak it like a rolla', and you know it's rolled tightly,
I'm like the funky beat, so, why ya
Verse 1:
Now as I get to school I hear the late bell ringing,
runnning through the halls, I hear the glee club singing,
and as I get to the office I
I'm mastermindin the plot, you ? the spot
Wicked intentions, sensin friction, when the funk gon' pop
I tote my heat, and hold my ground
They
accepting my fate
Confronting the demons, that feed off my pains
I give up this bliss now to cast off this weight
I can't fulfil someone else's dream
I
Killa House
Brick City
Style P.
When Funk Doc start takin' the drag
It's like who in the hell left this apron to lad
broken glass
I'm swinging
to make a living
Overcome the odds is the only decision
Cast like my pawn with your third eye vision
Slip up in the brain raise a sharp incision
to failure or keep making more beats
Never give up gotta keep dreaming
I'm gonna make the rap world mine or die trying
This one here's for the west coast
It's
"Fuck the President" it's evident
Hip Hop dead, them new niggas irrelevant
Different color braids, you niggas stuck in the maze
Ain't grew up by
clit like I'm a wizard
Pop that pussy like a blister
Bust a nut up in her gizzard
If you don't shut up, better nut up
And get cut up by this dirty narco
gunsmoke in Tokyo
MC's dosey do your mics up in this rodeo
My star roast em up by the thousands, millions, quadrillions
Shuttin down national state buildings
need
I'm gonna love your body yeah
Do you feel the heat
Oh I want ya
I'm gonna move up on ya
Oh you my soul brotha
I'm gonna put that funk up on ya
I'm
finished
No, no
You should know by now
We did it, we winning, and I ain't nowhere near finished
Oh, Fuck, Shit, Glee
Can't believe I really did it
Took
LYRICS
Is too early to give up on God
No matter what
God is God
Sometimes
Life is not fair
God is saying
CHORUS
Never give up (2x)
Never give up now
feel (Doctor)
I gotta surprise if you want it just come along by
It pops like jack in the box just give it a wind
Been out of my mind since I colored
try
To fade us get clowned, plus beat down, so
[Chorus: x2]
Let's get up, let's get down
Roll with the hardcore funk, the hardcore sound
Let's
With a guillotine
So will you lose head
Or give up your pride
A thin mine measured
With the blisters you hide
You can take your crown
(Don't let it
higher (push)
My momma said "Girl, u know it ain't cool, (get on ...)
said ya don't wanna play by nobody's rules"
I said "Momma chill out, (push)
and give
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