Cypress Hill, Erick Sermon, Redman, MC Eiht - Throw Your Hands in the Air lyrics

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!

Fresh is the word, when I display
My rappin forte quicker done than OJ
Hey I freaks my shit, 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 doper 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 Errrick Serrrmon
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 weed
Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hit's
Niggas 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 nigga to die?
Then try and test this, buddha blessed Gemini
You get thrown sent home in a coffin
Punks 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

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

I rhyme tricky
The sticky smoka with the mind itchy
Finger up on the pen, be like "He the bomb
Dicky!" 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 shit
Raw silk, cuz YOU DO IT TO MY MUSIC
Funk Doctor Spock lock the hypest
Individual, to put criminal in diapers
With my nigga E and Cypress
What I write bitch
You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis
In your back yard, word to God, Def Squad!
With my nigga Keith in the place takin charge
Word up you'll get hurt up
Like the jury callin murder
You're deaf cuz I freak shit
You neva heard of

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

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'mma get you
Hit you, the Tech 9, I'mma split you
Ain't no poppin, no stoppin
Tick to the tock
Tick tock I hit your block-and
Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this
I squeeze, nigga please
The E down with Cypress

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

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