Yo it's time to hurt her, sorta like murder
A duck with the public's favorite rhyme order
I ain't no waiter or hater of a spectator (Kill 'em B-Real)
Seekin' to find the toys, with no flavor
See I'm talkin' about those whose vocals ain't coming off
A skill to kill at will, but awfully dumb of course
Some go nut, the power of the last one
Slower, flower, blower
Those who ain't pros I wet my stupid radio
'Cause he needs a G when you listen to the vocal
I'm not a loco but I'm lookin' just 'til punk go ohh
Now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
All these motherfuckers that want to run up on the Hill
(Step off!) You know why?
This shit is all about boo-yaa ('Cause I said step off!)
This is the crime you find you're not an exponent
Doggone it, another gonna mierda on it
Now you're wishing, fishing you could do this
But on the strength, yo, I think you knew this
Was just like a dream, where you're supreme, the king
Of a minor league team, bro
Off of 47, swung a load of eleven
Got hit with a pitch like a bitch and went to heaven
Weak ducks, ducking and bucking
Saying fuck it, ain't worth damn pay the ducats
From my public, my favorite subject, I loves it
So go 'head, talk your punk shit
Suckers, you're nothing, frontin' like a cock chocker
Crack smoker, can we adjust we choker
Oh, now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
Another soft pussy motherfucker
Another fly verse
Straight from the deficit
Another scripture of B-Real
Yeah, get funky, Real
This is the Lower Eastside of things
You know what I'm saying? Cypress Hill
You ain't flamboyant, a toy boy on it
Ain't paid a plot, for un-em-be-ployment
I won't 'cause yo I got a lot of what I gotcha
Plus I taught ya, the beat on the top of
Everything you know, still you can't do no
Damage or duel though hey yo, 'cause I'm uno
The Real is the b-est, sport and you can see this
G-ness dialogue, of the real skiers
I ain't nothing like a joke, get stoned, get smoked
And choke off, the hypes I cook off
The dialectic, funk-elistic
Chew slower or become another statistic
Oh, now you can't see I'm real great?
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
Yo I told you to keep down brother
The motherfuckers just don't learn nothing G
Wake up Hill
They gotta keep going to school
So they keep going out
'Cause they're just not Real
Yeah that's right fool
Test the master pass, kick your ass
And feel combustion, for the dope blast
'Cause you're stepping on my property, get off it G
Get caught up, then you get shot up
See, violators will be prosecuted
By the reputed, undisputed, Cypress unit
Not so, no there's no sellout
You ain't got enough ducats to shell out
Well I'm in front, and yo I feel great
Check out the story to the glory of the real estate
Yeah, roaches come in but they don't come out G
Don't come on the Hill
That's right
