Southland Killers Lyrics by Cypress Hill

Southland Killers Lyrics

    Intro: [MC Ren]

    Yeah, y'all know what the fuck this is
    MC motherfuckin' Ren up in this bitch nigga
    Yeah, all y'all bitch-ass niggas out here talkin all that shit
    We 'bout to drop this motherfucker on y'all like this (*gun being loaded*)
    Punk ass niggas out here, nigga
    We some Southland Killers in this motherfucker (*gun is cocked*)
    (*GUNSHOT*)

    [MC Ren]
    Niggas all acrosss town, up in the suburbs
    While niggas makin' faces like The Rock on the curb
    Nigga People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold
    And groupie niggas bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?)
    Big-ass cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's)
    And hoes wit' big lips doin' what they suposed (yeah)
    Didn't have shit 'till I started to bust
    And y'all got shit 'cos of my balls are cussed
    Ren and Cypress Hill, they ain't liver than us
    Nigga Legendary Villian, who started the fuss
    Nigga double glock, cocked, get your shit rocked
    Get your crib knocked, nigga have that rib popped
    Under bosses and trouble, they under my rubble
    Clone motherfuckers, always the villain, like The Hubble
    Fuck your bubble, I bust them shits
    Plaques and shit, grab my dick, spit these hits

    Chorus [B-Real]



    Throw your clips up, man we's about to bust (Man we's about to bust) (Killers!)
    Cy-press, Hill click, yeah we ready for war (Yeah we ready for war) (Killers!)
    All y'all niggas, better just hit the floor (Killers!)

    [King Tee]
    I'm close to the best thing, on the West Wing
    Blown out your set, flames when the best sing
    It's a rep thing, haters feel they chest pain
    They feel it in they heart, I was there to test things
    Didn't arrest (?), the bullet-proof vest team
    These niggas shoot first they they askin (?) names
    It's less strain
    It's all real, I bet fame, it's a chess game
    Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right)
    I might sound funny out here
    But really, niggas get money out here
    And hey, everyday is sunny out here
    So listen, don't play dummy out here
    King try for bust make your whole pack run
    Stacked enough cash so now I stack guns
    Fat ones, all cold and black ones
    Southland Killin', it's just how that's done

    Chorus

    [Sen Dog and B-Real]
    You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill
    but when your shit (?) is when die on the Hill
    We get, hot on the heel, rely on the steel
    When your paper gets pulled and you design is steeled
    Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will
    [Sen Dog] BUSTERS GET SLAYED...!

    [B-Real]
    ...when you fuck around with Real
    Take time to feel, what I'm tellin' you hoes (Tellin' you hoes)
    You couldn't fuck around with me if I was sellin' you blows
    Just goes to show the incredible skill tell
    Bitch nigga, now you trapped under my wig well
    Gettin trampled, DUMPED on and thumped on
    Scraped on the six-five with the HAND ON THE PUMP SONG

    [Sen Dog]
    Don't even fuck with these Southland grandes
    We the vatos that run on Los Angeles
    Call me Mad Dog, if you think you know me
    If you're not sure then turn around and LEAVE SLOWLY!

    Chorus
     

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