Throw Your Hands In the Air (Album Version|Explicit) - Cypress Hill

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 O J hey

I freaks my sh*t 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 Erick Sermon

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 w**d

Ah sh*t another one of those gangsta hits

Niggaz 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 ni**a to die

Then try and test this Buddha blessed Gemini

You get thrown sent home in a coffin'

Punk stuff 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

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

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 sh*t

Raw silk 'cuz you do it to my music

Funk Doctor Spock lock the hypest

Individual to put criminal in diapers

With my ni**a E and Cypress what I write b**ch

You swore it was a nuclear war crisis

In your back yard word to God Def Squad

With my ni**a Keith in the place takin' charge

Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin' murder

You're deaf 'cuz I freak sh*t 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 CPT the hood thing

G the trigga finger I'ma get you

Hit you the Tech 9 I'ma split you

Ain't no poppin' no stoppin'

Tick to the tock tick tock I hit your block

Throw your hands in the air don't bite this

I squeeze ni**a 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

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 deceased

Incarcerated peeps brothers on the streets

Nineteen ninety-five soul assassins in your mind