Unreleased & Revamped

Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down

(B-Real)
Livin on phat pockets on flat wit tha gat
Rollin around nine deuce Cadillac
Still got my homies to watch my back
And they'll smoke ya ass if ya wanna come chat
That's why some pigs an tha kids come sweatin
They follow a hollow point shells hard ta swallow
Why wallow when ya come ta roll on I put tha clip
An dust bring ya ass on
Kickin dust on ya head as tha gat busts my grip surrounded
I'm about ta get rushed I brushed wit death
How many shells stuffed in my closet (???)

(Chorus)
(B-Real)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready)

Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down

(B-Real)
I told tha boyz get tha sawed off glock
And tha rest of tha gats as I strapped on tha bullet-proof vest BOOM
I think I got one to tha chest hot damn I didn't want to kill a man
Shit I still stand tall with tha hill clan y'all
Better stand back niggaz bout ta fall I'm comin out blastin like Yosemite Sam
Get tha cheese an tha bread for tha ham

(Chorus)
(B-Real)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (when tha ship goes down)
When tha ship goes down ya better be ready (ya better be ready)

Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down
Goin down, goin down

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Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill

(B-Real)
Well I'm an alley cat, some say a dirty rat
On my side is my gat, see I'm all of that
Sendin off buck shots for I'm gonna wetcha
Running hard, but I'm still coming to getcha
Thinking like a peace smoke, comin on a homicide
You talkin shit, try to take me for a ride
I'm not a bad guy, but I'm the funky feel one
Finger on the trigger with my hands upon the steel
Lettin out a bullet, this is going boo-yaa
You're stuck in my so hood, so what ya gonna do now?
Being the hunted one is no fun
Here I come son, yo I think you better run
Better run more, and move a little faster
Second of thought and I'm coming to blast ya
With my

(Chorus)
(B-Real)
Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Left hand on a forty, (puffin onna blunt)
Pumped my shotgun, (niggaz didn't jump)
La, la, la, la, la, la, la laaaaa...

Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill

(Sen Dog)
Comin at you like a stiff blow, fuckin up your program
Ain't takin shit from you him or no man
Master mind maniac and a menace soooo
How they want to pass sentence
All because a nigga tried to play me on the trigger
He missed, so now the nigga's pissed
Rude and crude like a pitbull get to the point
Your fuckin car to get pulled, now
I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And I'm handin out beatdowns
I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And I'm handin out beatdowns (get your face down!)
Put me in chains, try to beat my brains
I can get out, but the grudge remains
When I see ya punk ass, I'm gonna getcha
Fucking do ya, shotgun go boo-yaa!

(Chorus)
(B-Real)
Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Left hand on a forty, (puffin onna blunt)
Pumped my shotgun, (niggaz didn't jump)
La, la, la, la, la, la, la laaaaa...

Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill

(B-Real)
Kickin that funky Cypress Hill shit
Take a lot of mental for the blunted to chill with
Cuz I'm the chill one, known to get ill one
They stepped to the Hill "What's up?", I had to kill one
Now I'm headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And they got me on lock down
Headed up the river with a boat and no paddle
And they got me on lock down
Hit me like a nigga who done lost his mind
Cause I ain't goin out like a spineless jellyfish
Some say life is a bitch
Ask that punk who dug his own ditch
Out for the Hill fuckin up at a party
Tried to get funny, put a hole in his body
La, la, la, la, la, la, la laaa
Look at all of those funeral cars
Cause I'ma

(Chorus)
(B-Real)
Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Left hand on a forty, (puffin onna blunt)
Pumped my shotgun, (niggaz didn't jump)
La, la, la, la, la, la, la laaaaa...

Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill
Cypress Hill, Cypress Hill

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[Wyclef] Refugee camp, with Cypress Hill
[B-Real] Yo, bringin it on
[Wyclef] Cubans meet the Haitians
Perfect combination, check it

Verse One: Wyclef, B-Real

[Wyclef] You say guns
[B-Real] I say pistolas
[Wyclef] Well if you got beef son
[B-Real] Callate la boca
[Wyclef] Go meet me on the island where the Cubans meet the Haitians
[B-Real] A bullet beats the verbal lyrical assassination
[Wyclef] From L.A. to Brooklyn why you doin all that talkin
[B-Real] Think you got a soul but you're a Dead Man Walking
[Wyclef] Yo toast the host from coasts' we boast
When we meet again, I will be Casper that Friendly Ghost
[B-Real] You'll hear shots, like the show Cops
Things are still the same, I'm still growin crops
[Wyclef] Wyclef with B-Real, let me build better yet
[B-Real] Killa bee kill
[Wyclef] Yo B-Real watch your grip

Chorus: B-Real, Wyclef, Lauryn Hill

[B-Real] Hi, boom biddy bye bye
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhhahhh, ahhhahhh
[Wyclef] You open up your eyes you'll be the next one to die
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh
[B-Real] Boom biddy bye bye
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh
[Wyclef] Ohh as simple as they come as as simple as they die
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh
[B-Real] Boom biddy bye bye
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh
[Wyclef] Yo who told the boyy, to pack a forty-five
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhhahhh
[B-Real] Boom biddy bye bye
[Lauryn Hill] Ahhahhhh, ahhahhhh
[Wyclef] Now he rest in the place that they call paradise

Verse Two: B-Real, Wyclef

Fools run up, but they've never seen the last
Spread your last lyrics get broken like glass
Can he pass or does he posess the will
Or does he need to create to keep him straight on the real
Punks are broken some dey fall off the ledge
Refugee Camp bringin it straight over the edge

You duck as I fluff the feathers from ya skin
How ya gonna win that's like Satan without no sin (without no sin)
They'll never happen while I'm rappin I be watchin
The Philistines, creepin up in Manhattan
The sun turn up though Wyclef produce a track with Muggs
But there's no survivors, they all died in the flood

Chorus

Verse Three: Wyclef, B-Real

Yo, once a child, twice a villain
If this was drugs I'd make a million off this combination
They say you'redope Clef you're dope so they offer me sess and beer
Beware, you pull your wallet Mr. Thief stares
The opposite direction of the room, he pulled his gun and said
I'm doomed join the son of man in the tomb

I see the soldiers, comin from out the shadows
Ready for battle, ain't trying to hear the baffled
Warriors lined up in full war gear
In it to win it if it goes on for years
Dedicated to the stable of the Assassins
Revolutionaries, just bring on the action

Chorus

[WYCLEF]
Soldier man
Rewind selector soldier man
Refugee soldier man
Brooklyn soldier man
L.A massive soldier man
New Jersey massive soldier man
Uptown massive soldier man
Long beach massive soldier man
You know the whole world watches soldier man

Boom biddy bye bye open up ya eyes you'll be the next one to die.......

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Intro: Sen Dog

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!

Verse One: Erick Sermon

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

Verse Two: B-Real

Ahh shit, 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 nigga 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

Chorus: B-Real

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

Chorus

Verse Three: Redman

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
*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 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

Chorus

Verse Four: MC Eiht

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'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, nigga please, the E down with Cypress

Chorus

Chorus

Outro: Sen Dog

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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