Tony Touch - U Know the Rules (Mi Vida Loca) lyrics

Well it's the alley cat
Puffin on a hoody mack
Some say I'm a titere
But yo I ain't all of that
Hit you wit a baseball bat if
You try to ill though
Fuck around you get bucked on the hill bro
Mr tony Toca, rollin wit the joker
East LA to Bushwick, cosa nostra
Bring it to you bitch ass
Clicks like we supposed
Cypress Hill in full effect wit the mota
Ain't nuthin changed but the date
So fuck wit jake
Expect me to cut the cake, it's much to late
I'm takin it all
Send you to the back of the line
Breakin you off
Watchin you react to the rhyme
Me packin the nine
Nah that's a whole other game
Cuz if I'm forced to pull out
I'mma blow out ya brain
Yo, what we feel, never go wit the grain
It's Tony Touch and B-Real still goin insane

Mi Vida Loca, get blast
Money moves, you snooze you loose
Punk nigga, you know the rules
We strike first, we hit hard, no regard
And move weight, international
State to state

Maginifico, here we go, me and Tony Toca
My name ain't Ricky but I'm
Livin the vida loca
Serial rhyme killa, the paper spinner
Eatin the pussy sup, havin you for dinner
Like a fur tinner
Makin you loose it over the
Years like a winner
I can't abuse like a picketer
I send it a flow, control temper
We into the party
Wit bounce and yo go get ya
All this other shit don't really matter
I'd rather be open your grave
Relivin my bladder
Ain't nothin sadder, the Mad Hatter
Make a fine cheddar, keep climbin the ladder
You try follow after
I'm sorry to shatter your dream
Splatter your spleens, scatter your teams
Bad as it seems, niggas will follow the beam
Money cream, funny things
Happen when you runnin things

Time to put a little pressure
But the addresser
You get no lesser, microphone finesser
Rhymes go like pressure, and listen never
Whether you gather to go, never become richer
Keep the punk nigga bitch up
Pain change like a woman ass switch up
You rhyme on the mic like you ate a dick up
Mouth full, blown talk, not to hiccup
Pick up your brain off the
Ground wit the vacuum cleaner
Life's a bitch like Elliott Misdemeanor
I have you ass up wit the sharp cleaver
Thru the receiver
Spot it like rhyme weaver, follow the leader
Shit's off the fuckin meter, drum beater
Side reader, while we puffin the cold 'hebba

Yeah Mr cocotasso, hit you wit a baso
Say hello to my little friend, posa caso
Tato, now that's all she wrote
Muthafuckas think I fell for the okie doke
But, you can quote me loke
Cuz the joke's on you
Soul Assassins in the house
You better hold on to
Now you can watch these rap
Niggas just roll on through
Or you can get up and
Get involved it's on you u know the rules