Текст песни Throw Your Hands In the Air (Cypress Hill) с переводом

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 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 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

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 (x2)

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

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 (x2)

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 (x2)

Outro:

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

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