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cypress hill – cisco kid lyrics


(feat. method man, redman)

we gonna get you high [whispered in background x6]
let’s get high [whispered in background x2]

i flow rhymes off just like weed in your chest
think you got endo, hold your breath
spittin on the track with red and meth
holdin up a fat, when you smoke a c-ssette
or cds, we bees the ones with the ouija’s
spread it on the arm, come on believe me
look who it is, it’s the funky feel
smokin -ss-ssin from cypress hill
we think she’s just resonated?
fillin my brain till it’s saturated
when you get the crushed weed and cultivate it
give it to the hoes who love to hate it
cause blunts get filled like hershey highways
i don’t give a f-ck who sits where i blaze
chillin at the rainbow high and faded
you saving that b-mp(??), then isolate it

[method man]
is there a doctor in the house?
we like f-ck that, nut sacks in your mouth
lemme show you what a thug about
we can talk or we can slug it out
better yet, you can bark like a b-tch when i thug it out
there it is, a better a kid, ahead of his
time to settle this, like men
i’m pipin hot, exciting
right in the gym or hype in them, alright then
all day i drink and smoke
sh-ll toe with ankles in ya both
cent, five cents, ten cents, dollar
rocwilder blend the track and getting hotter
ask your boy, now p-ss your boy something to smoke
cause you have had nothing to throat, swallow
bang the track, bring your bat
ain’t too many that can hang with that
so why bother

cisco kid was a friend of mine
h-ll yea
cisco kid was a friend of mine
h-ll yea
he drank whiskey, pancho drank the wine
h-ll yea
he drank whiskey, pancho drank the wine
h-ll yea

[cypress hill]
yea, send all, and fall back
and who wrote on this track
i don’t really give a f-ck
put the pen down lets toss them up
soul -ssasins, latin thugs
whole d-mn world know about us
rhymes we kick and weed we pour
get tus vatos all f-cked up
and sing along to my get high song
had you choking off of four foot bong
cypress hill and weed, can’t go wrong
keep you smoking like cheech and chong

yo, call me that doctor
p-funk or chronic blower
p-ssy smoker, strap toker, back broker
hash burns in your pull out sofa
this is my brain on drugs
move out my way cuz, cause i might run you over
b-tches bounce your t-tties
i bounce with a pump shotgun
look out, the highest man in the world
walkin off with my hand on your girl
can’t drink and can’t stand in the world
n-gg-s, two puffs and then p-ss me the l
what you talking about i’m not high enough to start that party
triple beater enter the stage with a gauge
don’t shoot n-body
what you ain’t high enough?
do i gotta jump out there and tie you up?
strap a bomb to your mouth
till you wired up
till the park ranger call the firetruck
and said “hey motherf-cker, what you be smoking on?”
i said “hey motherf-cker, why do you want some?”
yo, yo, give me the gun, we don’t need to fight
hold that blunt, i’ll give you a light
don’t no n-gg- want to die tonight
with all this weed, get high tonight.. b-tch!

[chorus x2]