Refugee camp, with Cypress Hill Yo, bringin' it on Cubans meet the Haitians Perfect combination, check it You say guns, I say pistolas Well, if you got
This sure is, I got that-a old crazy shit From round the corner you know The homeboys and the brothers be slangin' this shit But anyway you over there
can take ya to the limit Temperature risen, nasal highzen Comin' back in with the lows for the fows Fuckin' up egos, an' anybody, oppose The numba one skunk freaka, the Cypress Hill
question, who's the baddest MC's in the game runnin for the status Take a few seconds to review the crews Sittin on top is the Hill lookin over you Killa Hill
move back, yo, be real Come back, come back yeah I'm the head-hunter you goin' under Make a trophy call it the two-headed buster On my mantle back in the temple
Living in the city of the Scandalous Shisty motherfuckers can't even trust my own brothers So who can I choose to trust me that's who? Niggas want a piece
You don't wanna turn your back on me When you least expect it, I come with a wicked method I'm creepin' on ya, think bout your homeboys bleeding on ya
had my back Down in the west coast, so lemme kick it To the motherfucker who calls himself 'Wicked' No rest, no peace! No sleep Doughboy rolling down the hill
No competition can ever get none Straight flip flop nigga flip flop On your punk ass until you drop (Cypress Hill, coming at your grill) You're nothing but a motherfucking time Clock Cypress motherfucking Hill
herb open up the mind Seek deep inside, tell me what you find, come on Who be the ones steppin? in the room Everybody welcome to the temple of boom
[B-Real]: I neva rapped on an R&B record, and I neva will, I got these phoney muthafuckas, talk about lets keep it real, But, they don't know how to take
Every nigga out there wanna be down with the crew Some ain't got enough heart, let me ask you this Would ya be down like a soldier Loyal an' do everything