[Intro: Barron Ricks]

Yeah! Bust how we gonna bounce off this

'95 Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill joint

Yo, we want everybody out there to throw they hands up

So get it on, kid!

[Verse 1: Erick Sermon]

Fresh is the word when I display

My rappin' forté quicker done than O.J. 

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 (Wooo!)

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 guess it's been determined

And one for the treble, 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 comin' through with speed, with pounds of weed

[Verse 2: B-Real]

Ahh, shit! Another one of those gangsta hits

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

(Dark side of your mind)

[Chorus: B-Real]

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Come on!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Everybody now!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (All my brothers do!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Redman!)

[Verse 3: Redman]

I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoker with the mind itchy

Finger up on the pen, be like E, the bomdigi

These off-keys MCs 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

Moist this diagnosis

Comatosis is what I leave your crew with

Boom bip on some two and two shit

Raw silk 'cause 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 backyard, word to God (Def Squad!)

With my nigga Keith in the place takin' charge

Word up, you'll get hurt up, let the jury call it murder

You're deaf 'cause I freak shit you never heard of

[Chorus: B-Real]

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Come on!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (MC Eiht!)

[Verse 4: MC Eiht]

Steppin' to the Park and 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 unloadin' the 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

(Come on!) You wish you could hang like I hang

Dwells in the CPT, the hood thing

G, the trigga finger, I'ma get you (Huh!)

Hit you, the TEC 9, I'ma split you (Brrrah!)

Ain't no poppin', no stoppin'

Tick to the tock, tick-tock, I hit your block and (Wooo!)

Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this

I squeeze, nigga, please, the E down with Cypress

[Chorus: B-Real]

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Throw 'em up now!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (In the air, yo!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Come on!)

Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys

Throw your hands in the air (Throw 'em in the air!)

[Outro: Barron Ricks]

A'ight! For everybody

All our peeps out on the corners, all the alleyways

For all our deceased, incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets

1995

Soul Assassins in your mind