unknown

Intro:

(*guy toking up*)
Fuckin buddha comin at'cha live
Direct with the biggest, fattest joint
Comin in with indo flavours
Fuckin buddha comin at'cha like this
'95

Verse 1: b-real

It's friday mornin, where the weed at?
Let me dip into my pocket for my fat weed sack
Cos i wanna get high like a plane
In the sky with the indo cloud in my brain
Where the fuck are my zig-zags and my lighters?
So i can roll it and set it on fire
Damn, i wish i had scissors cos the shit is so sticky
That it's gettin on my fuckin fingers
But it's smokeable, double tokeable
I got the one-hit that, where the bombay shit that's tokeable
I wanna do a joint venture
Let me make sure there ain't no lump in the goddamn centre
To get pregnated lookin joint, fuck it
I can smoke it and i still get faded

Chorus:

Roll it up, light it up, smoke it up
Inhale exhale
*repeat x3*

(i'm the freaker, the one freaks the funk
*repeat*

Verse 2: (sen dogg), b-real

(east coast hittin that blunt), west coast hittin that honeydip
Might he want a joint then i want another hit
Roll it up, (light it up), smoke it up
I wanna stimulate my mind (so i toke it up)
Can i get a hit? (can i get a hooh!?)
Gimme that fat bag of weed and the brew
So i can get faded, elevated
Smoke the joint down to a roach then i ate it
I stand true to the guess guy ????
(as i keep runnin from the chop-per)
Gimme dat weed fool and ya zig-zags
(puto won't be holdin out on the big bag)

Chorus

(i'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk)
*repeat to fade*

[b-real]
Funkmaster flex, is down with us
Krs-one, he's down with us
The wu-tang clan is down with us
Busta rhymes you know he's down with us
Naughty and fat joe are down with us
The maad circle are down with us
Def squad, is down with us
?dn's and mike m? are down with us
Dr. dre you know he's down with us
Julio g he's down with us
Sway and king tech, are down with us
Makin funky music is a must... i'm #1! *one echoes*

People still takin rappin for a joke
A passing hope, or a phase with the rope
Sometime i choke and try to believe
When i get challenged by a million mc's
I try and tell them, we're all in this together
My album was raw, because no one would ever
Think like i think, or do what i do
I stole the show, then i leave without a clue
Whattayou think makes up cypress hill?
Concisive teaching, or very clear speaking
Ridiculous bass, aggravating treble
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but the break of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original, teacher of this type of style
Rockin off beat with a smile or smirk
Or chuckle, yet some are not up to
Cypress hill posse, so i love to
Step in the jam and slam, i'm not superman
Cause anybody can
Or should be able, to rock a turntable
Grab the mic, plug it in and begin
But here's where the problem starts, no heart
Because of that, a lot of groups fell apart
Rap is still an art, and no one's from the old school
Cause rap is still a brand new cool
I say no one from the old school cause rap on the whole
Isn't even twenty years old
Fifty years down the line, you can start this
Cause we'll be the old school artists
And even in that time i'll say a rhyme
A brand new style, ruthless and wild
Runnin around, spendin money havin fun
Cause even then, i'm still #1! *one echoes*

Soul assassin crew of course
Comes to express with styles galore
Ways of rhyming, old and new
Past and present, knock knock who is it?
A brand new style, rrrah time to change
People talk about me when they see me on stage
Live in action, guaranteed raw
I hang with the rich and i work for the poor
And after all you can say you saw
Cypress hill, stompin once more
I play it by ear, i love to steer
The fifty-seven bel air from here to there
I grab the beer, but not in the ride
Cause i'm not stupid i don't drink and drive
I'm not a beginner, amateur or local
My album is sellin, because of my vocals
You know what you need to learn?
Old school artists don't always burn
You're just another rapper whose had his turn
Now it's my turn, and i am concerned
About idiots, posing as kings
What are we here to rule, i thought we're 'sposed to sing
And if we are to sing, then let us begin to teach
Many of you are educated open your mouth and speak
A cypress hill soldier, is something like a total renegade
Except i don't steal i rhyme to get paid
Airplanes flyin, overseas people dyin
Politicians lyin i'm tryin
Not to escape, but hit the problem head-on
From bringin out the truth in the song
So c-h-p short for cypress hill production
Made a little noise cause the crew was sayin somethin
People have the nerve to take me for a gangsta
An ignorant one, somethin closer to a prankster
Doin petty crimes goin straight to penetentiary
But in the scale of crime that's really elementary
This beat is now compellin me, to explain the silence
Why my last jam was so violent
It's simple, cypress hill will teach reality
No beatin around the bush, straight up, just like 'my weed is free'
So now you know, a poet's job is never done
But i'm never overworked, cause i'm still #1! *one echoes*

Mc eiht, he's down with us
Big boy and ralph m are down with us
Refugee camp, is down with us
Khartoum and vigga v are down with us
Call o' da wild is down with us
Psycho realm, is down with us
Lifestyle car club is down with us
Makin funky music is a must, i'm #1! *one echoes*

Chorus (repeated several times):
Scooby-doo, y'alllllll....
Scooby-dooby-doo, y'alllllll....

Verse 1: b-real
I remember the time them niggas tried to get me (i ain't havin' it)
Throw your hands in the air, the hill's live and direct, see
So let me put my clip in, watch this nigga start flippin'
My, why must they always be trippin'?
Shut up, what up, fool tried to nut up
Dropped the gat, riccocheted, the fool got cut up
(why'd you drop the gat, g?) i got hit from behind
Now a nigga like me, i gotta go for mine
Bring it on, bing, make ya bells ring
When ya hit that pavement, what a feeling
It's on, cracked like a baseball bat
Oh shiiiiiiiit, out the boot came a gat
Pointed (aimed) the nigga said "you're through!"
[laughs] scooby doo! 'cause i had a boy too!

Chorus

Verse 2: b-real
I remember the time them niggas tried to get me (i ain't havin' it)
Throw your gats in the air if you wanna come test me
So let me just run through, as i pull out my scooby-doo
I get the chills when i see that dead man's crew
I got to get up, let's go head up, dead up
I'm loc'ed like that, punk, that's why you're gettin' wet-up
Want me to let up, but i ain't tryin' to hear that
Bullshit cryin', punk, let me just clear that
Buck a shot, lick a two shot, lick a three shot
Ran out of ammo, damn, i ain't tryin' to get got
Two niggas standin', dirty under-handed
Lighter shade of fire, check my slug expanded
Now tell me what the fuck are you gonna do
When i pull out my scooby-doo?

Chorus

Outro: b-real (mexican dialect?)
Take a good look ... 'cause this is the last time you're gonna see
Fat bell like this again, you fat piece a chit! kid muchacho,
Muchacho kid, get flabby - (oh - choot that piece a chit.) you
Fuckin' lobsta piece a chit! i'll stomp you like a duck. and you ...
You with your little happy chain of lighters ... you wanna fuck with
Me, you fuck with the best! and you ... you with the burly haircut,
The stawberry quik guy ... you around the way, main. i know where
You at.

[mellow man ace: repeat 2x]
Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der..

[intro: b-real] + (mellow man ace)
Aww, comin through fo' real we cypress hill, ohh baby
Got that crunk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy
We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street
We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three (low-ri-der)
So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air
We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair
Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der)
Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight

[b-real]
Now when people are done, bumpin they head to this
You wonder why you wanted anything instead of this
We been makin you bounce, for many years already
Rock steady and cut, many niggaz to confetti
But i just want to blaze it up; whether it's the mic or a spliff
Yes my gift is to amaze you all
Thought i couldn't come for ten my friend, but guess what?
I slay niggaz and still savin my best nut (low-ri-der)
But you better cover your eyes, cause you never know when
I spit it out and start some flowin
I drop rhymes that grow like trees you're smokin
Ear drums feel like lungs, your brain's chokin
Just let it soak in, seep in, creep in
I'm keepin, all you motherfuckers in the deep end (low-ri-der)
You wanna trip? then i got luggage
I stuff you in and send you off, cause you ain't rugged

[chorus] + (mellow man ace)
Aww, comin through fo' real we cypress hill, ohh baby
Got that crunk, for yo' trunk, goin gangsta crazy
We some real life hustlers, playin games in the street (low-ri-der)
We got that low-ri-der, scrapin dippin on three
So pop yo' collar, give a holla, throw the dubs in the air (low-ri-der)
We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair
Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der)
Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin freaky tonight

[b-real & sen dog]
Cause, we're cypress hill, come on and ride with us
Just get inside, we bouncin dippin, chop it up real tough
Lean to the side, pimp yo' hat, tilt yo' seat on back
Don't front on me, baby boy, and break bread with the sack (low-ri-der)

[sen dog]
I be the vato with the fine hoodrat in the rafla(?)
Always roll deep on the streets like the mafia
Jueto(?), just might come back and haunt ya
Flossin too much, no vato's gonna want ya
Not right here homes, we're past all of that
Makin that feria, spittin that raps
Yame(?) conoces, i'm down for my calle
Cypress ave, y a pudo les madre (low-ri-der)
Ya tu sabes, we don't play that shit
Any pendejo's gettin hit up quick
Whassup ese? what hood you claim?
Now throw it up and down like it ain't no thang (low-ri-der)
Hands in the air with the pinky rings
Soul assassins, runnin everything
To all you vatos, make sure you check this
In every barrio, i'm well respected (low-ri-der)

[chorus]

[mellow man ace: repeat 4x to fade]
Low-ri-der.. low-ri-der..

[b-real]
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (to the what?)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k

One, life had begun for the ruffneck
Kid who was gonna put niggaz in check
Eighteen, g, for the green
Obscene, and it's for the time being
I'm pickin nine, hell i'm out to get mine
And pick two homies, three com-bine
Next thing you know, jump in the six-fo'
Get out, cock the hammer, then kick down the do'

A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (a to the k!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (motherfuckin k?!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (a to the k!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k

[sen dog]
Couple niggaz from the eastside, headed eastbound
Lookin for a pound, to haul around town
Here comes a clown, i gotta hold my ground
Hear the slug comin, when it come you fall down
Buckdown, dead sound, that's what you found
That's what you get when you fuck the brown
Dog, sen is comin, to the mound
La vida from cypress, rips your compound
Shit gets deep, eight niggaz on the ground
What do you know? what - go ah-round come around!
Six for the pig, and his punk hound
Hail to the king pig, or you get crowned
Or better yet, i'll roll you up like a fat j

[b-real]
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (a to the k!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (motherfuckin k?!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (a to the k!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k

It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on..
(it's gonna be on.. goin on!)
It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on..
(it's gonna be on.. goin on!)
It's gonna be on.. it's gonna be on..
(it's gonna be on.. goin on!)

[b-real]
Gimme that weed fool and all your loot too
I got a nigga in the back and the blunt for your crew
Loaded and cocked for any hardrock
If you're takin my weed, i'm takin over your spot
Keep your face down as i take your pound
Don't let me see nobody get up, just hug the ground
(stay still) and don't make a sound
As i get out the door, headed eastbound
But, why did the fool try to act brave? (act brave)
Clip from the nine equals six to the grave

A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (a to the k!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (motherfuckin k?!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k (a to the k!)
A to the motherfuckin k homeboy
A to the motherfuckin k

chorus: kurupt and b-real (repeat 2x)

You don't know no real shit, nigga (it's the real shit!)
This the original cypress hill shit, nigga
We numb niggas, ya don't feel shit, nigga
You ain't on no real shit, nigga

[b-real]
'91 (*echoes*) cypress hill burst upon the scene
Three crazy, gun-totin' niggas smokin' weed
Talkin' about life on records was the whole plan
So we put out the phuncky feel, but you up'd on kill a man (kill a man! *echoes*)
That was about the time we was openin' up for Noriety
Didn't know shit, we were jus' tryin' to rock the party

'92 (*echoes*) a year later, 'bout a million records sold
From doin' shows like lollapalooza on the road
Buildin' up momentum, whilst spittin' deadly venom
Takin' pictures for high times, me muggs and sen
Chillin' with the beastie boys, smokin' lots of weed
But it was time to hit the studio for another lp

'93 (*echoes*) black sunday hits, with critical acclaim
Had a monster hit from insane in the brain
Topped the charts, held the spot, for six weeks to boot
It was a trip to note, that we was the first ones to do it
In rap music, but it was a feat none the less
So we started gettin paid and i stopped smokin' stress!

Chorus

[b-real]
'94 (*echoes*) still in the door and we conquered many tours
With rage against the machine, house of pain and many more
Was even invited to woodstock, some niggas from the block
Called up eric bobo and half a million rocked
How could all this happen at 24 years of age?
Half a million bouncin' to your shit from off the stage

'95 (*echoes*) i was alive and survived so far (*"(rap) superstar"
Xylophone*)
Still tryin' to cope with bein' a rap star
'cos that's the type of shit that can really affect your mental
This was evident, in the way i broke the tempo
With confusin,("i'm havin' illusions") pain, and (?) illusions
But i still kept my set up with the critics bein' abusive (yeah)
Even the record company, they became illusive
When it comes to showin' support for the cypress institution

'96 (*echoes*) wit' no support we were still makin' moves
Cypress hill, in the summer, we were on the smokin' grooves
But like every legend every click, someone had to split
So the dog left the house, shit was gettin' kinda thick
I was with the electric lady, we was talkin' about babies
But the groupies on the road don't help me from misbehavin'

Chorus (just 1 repeat)

[b-real]
'97 (*echoes*) was the trip, it was the year we killed the feud
Between us and cube, over shit nobody knew
The dog came back home (*barking*) but after smokin' grooves 2
Chillin' with george clinton and erykah badu
This was a crazy time, we were flowin' off the boo
Niggas on stage, trippin' on the 'shrooms

'98 (*echoes*) was kinda great, cos it felt just like before
We hit the studio, recorded cypress hill iv
But someone dropped the ball, as i still recall
'cos it felt cypress hill got no support at all
We did the last smokin' grooves, but did it all with sen
And the old chemistry, just reared it's head again

'99 (*echoes*) i got to recline, because there was no doubt
That the first year was a success, of the smoke out
'99 was even better than the year of '98
And skull and bones was comin' out, kickin' from the gate

Two-thousand! (*echoes*) 15 million records sold
They broke the mould, but there's others along the road
But we still keep rollin' on from heaven to atlantis
Droppin' shit in english and makin' albums in spanish

Two-thousand and one! (*echoes*) goddamn, who knows what's in store?
Just as long as motherfuckers know, who's knockin' on the door
We remain unjaded and still we go unfaded
See how long we made it and never ben outdated

[b-real] (sen dog)

We ain't goin out, motherfucker (that's right, fuck that!)
You don't know (?) ((?) time cypress hill)
(motherfuckin' renovaters up here)

Chorus

[outro - kurupt]
(it's the reeeeaaaal!)
Nigga, nigga
Ni-ni-nigga <--(*scratched*)
This the original cypress hill shit, nigga
Nigga, nigga
(*scratch*) nigga
Cypress, nigga!
Yeah!

Ice cube
I'm sick wit' it but it'll still take ten of y'all
To take the emperor's temperature
Can i represent wit' ya?
Smokin' hemp wit' ya
Pass the blunt from east to west
Cube to krs (yes)
Take it from the don
Where i'm from the man of steel is made of teflon
Keep yo' vest on
Hit me with yo' best one baby
& watch me mack you
Comin' through with hard *** & shaq-fu
Never up in spago's when we knock hoes
Head her off with some reeboks and cagos
Westside rollin' even if the car's stolen
Even if my eyes shut & jaw swollen
That's how it's goin' down
You always smile when i frown
'cause you want the crown
You fuckin' clown
I keep it real no more beef with cypress hill
Now we super friends makin' super ends
Westsiide

Shaq <overlaps last line>
It's a fact many know that shaq made of mils
But did you know that shaq made of steel
Feel me!
No matter what i do the billy it's gone flourish
Big **** just like a bus full of japanese tourists
Or it's styles that flow like hudson river debris
Ship quarter keys of them shaq cd's roo roo
Next mc that claim to keep it real
Shaquille gone slap 'em with a mil
Criss cut clean numerical order bills
Ill, now put it on the wrist
The best thing since grits & fake tits
Man of steel who you with?
I'm so fly when i walk i levitate
My caliber's first rate
Exceptional above great
Diesel's large, guilty on every charge
Of bein' dope imagine superman with a dookey rope

Chorus
1 2 3 4 hit it
It's the men of steel bangin' with the drum hit it
4 3 2 1
Shaq b real krs peter gunz (ice cube)
1 2 3 4 hit it
It's the men of steel bangin' with the drum hit it
4 3 2 1
Shaq b real

B real
Hip hop has plenty of steel
With shaquille & chris & real
Nobody move stay still while the masters build the track
React the foundation hip-hop *** generation
Hear my voice playin' at the station
Immortal thought for the recorder
Consider the picture deliver the scripture still hit ya
If the shoe fits ya wear it
You'll inherit the culture
Let me break down the whole structure
East coast west coast universal flava
Pullin' together with my neighbor no playa haters
Just real no outrageous fantasies
Jump out the pages from the book of mc's
& nothin' can penetrate the steel mind state
Like shaq when he go back & dominate

Peter gunz
Aiiyo i stop many hearts
Part many wigs
*** & get it twisted &
Play me for any pig
Conceived in the bronx
Born & raised but on the real
I be made of steel like o' neal
Feel me if ya got the skill
Squeeze pale **** cause disaster
Have you makin' tracks like master
Faster ghost like casper
Man of steel hangin' & bangin' in yo' district
Never get it twisted i'm lifted, gifted
Like steel hard to penetrate
Generate dollar signs you follow mine
Come in peace money i will bless that
Bring the noise leave you on the fourth
Where i rest at for real

Chorus
1 2 3 4 hit it
It's the men of steel bangin' with the drum hit it
4 3 2 1
Hip-hop's the same no matter where you came from
(cube) westsiide
(b real) men of steel
(cube) eastsiide
(krs) men of steel throw ya hands up
(cube) westsiide
(b real) men of steel
(cube) eastsiide
(krs) men of steel throw ya hands up

Krs-one
Whoop whoop
That's the sound of ems
After some boy try test the krs
Pick a single any single
What i bring you makes you tingle
It's the lingo from the star like ringo
& i mingle in the clubs
Dj's mc's get rug cut like shrubs
Over the dub sound buzz
No one's really knowin'
How i'm comin' & goin' showin' & flowin' cold
Throwin' these rappers chasin' the dough
& out the frame my name remains the same
I came to maintain
Hip-hop's the same no matter where you came from
It's all the same son get it correct
All that metal to pleather whatever
Give me respect!
Then i'll collect a check & you can expect
Something you'll never forget
Comin' from my intellect
Oh what the heck
Lyrical flex cash checks
I step through the brush like a tyrannosaurus rex
Krs-one is the nicest
Shaquille o'neal definitely from men of steel
You know how we feel
Comin' through like that on the track
Krs-one & we back (oooh oooooh)

Chorus
1 2 3 4 hit it
It's the men of steel bangin' with the drum hit it
4 3 2 1
Shaq b real krs peter gunz (ice cube)

Gunz (cube)
Throw ya hands up what up now (it don't stop)
South bronx represent that, brooklyn represent that
(it don''t stop)<---overlaps last line--->(it don't stop)
(huh, what about south central? ha ha haa )

Intro

(scratching samples)

Verse one: b-real

Sipping on tequila, with sheila, no doubt i'm bringing her on
Keeping her warm, leaving her heated like tiger balm
In the hot sun city of mexico, it's a pity
My committee of *edited* with me to get gritty
Rhyme *edited* on the track, snappin' your head back
Get the medic, cause a victim from *edited* joey crack
Stomping the wax *edited* spittin' on wax
Giving the facts, beginners lack the methods of kicking wicked records
A second of time switch, as styles piles up
*edited* of various flows to rile up
So what you wanna do? tequila sunrise *edited*
Coming to town with my bigger boogie down figga
It's the lies, *edited* do you think you can survive it?
When you decide it, leave it to me and joe can provide it
Cracking open the golden, holdin' the bomb load
While records are selling singles, my albums are getting sold
Kicking the universal, never commercial techniques
Banging the clubs, banging the jeeps
Banging the streets


Chorus

Tequila sunrise, bloodshot eyes
Realize we're all born to die
So get the money, money...
(repeat 4x)


Verse two: fat joe

Now i'm back for the new year, yeah i volunteer
Sources pioneer, millionaire status here
I never had no fear sellin' records
I resurrected on my third, that's my word, it's a high selection
And everybody know standing near me,
I'm dangerous like shannon greary
Making the whole planet hear me
You feel me? i'm on my road to the riches
Where hoes and *edited* fulfilling my goals and my wishes
My flows is vicious, but showin' *edited* since the early 90's
Where onyx at? *edited* rockin' both easy *edited* 'round a grammy
Don't mind me, i just call 'em how i see 'em
Most these rappers is actors living off per diem
Me? i'm on my own *edited*, nothing but gold hits
Claimin' the with throne with my 'thuggish, ruggish bone' click
On the phone-flip, talking to b
He scooped me up in the six, we 'bout to hit overseas, what!

Chorus

Outro
(each overlapping the other)

B-real:
That's right, we hitting you with the l.a./bronx connection
Soul assassins, terror squad family
All up in your dome... ha!
That's right, soul assassins style, cypress hill iv
Knocking on your door for the ninety-eight
That's right, eat the worm...

Fat joe:
Yeah... terror squad, soul assassins
B-real, joey crack... wha-wha-wha-what!
Ugh! puttin' it down, nigga
East coast, west coast
And it's all the same, hahahaha... yeah, yeah

(intro)
Greetings, earthlings
We have now taken over your radioooo.....

(b-real)

Goin' straight through the hole
You ain't got no game
I'm breakin' ya out the frame
Coming through like a train
Looking to take over the world is my goal
With my unstoppable crew takin' all control
You can't get none of this, we're runnin' this
Well taker, earth shaker, 3 point gunnin' this
Get out the lane, i'm comin' through
And if you don't wanna move then i'm comin' right through you

(coolio)

It's like inch by inch and step by step
I'm closing in on your position and destruction is my mission
Though eight is not enough, your whole squad better duck
It's like switch when i bust
Now you're whole crew is dust
Comin' through my area, i'ma have to bury ya
The real scream team on your scream scene
It's like showdown on the range

Go tell me who wanna tangle with the
Ghetto witch-doctor neighborhood superhero?

Chorus:

(b-real)
We want it all (want it all!)
Unstoppable, we run the floor (run the floor!)
You can't take none of this hardcore (hardcore!)
In the game we take you to war (war!)
You ain't seen nothin' like this before
(all)
If i hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high
And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low
If i hit 'em high, hit 'em high, hit 'em high
And you hit 'em low, hit 'em low, hit 'em low

(method man)

Insane like a runaway train i'm in your lane
Like it's only 3 seconds to score to win the game
Came to bring the ultimate pain upon the brain
Untamed, you won't like it when i change
And you are type strange
Make room, manaical monster in the game
And i got my eye on you
Deadshot aim, as free throws keep comin' down like rain
You feelin' me, i'm feelin' you
The monstar again, i'm tellin' you
Pass me the rock, now i'm headed to the basket
Get up out my way is what you better do
My tactics is unsportsmanlike conduct
You better ask it
Don't get no better than this, you catch my drift?
You get stripped by ballhandlers ruled by swackhammer
Danger, you're dealin' with offical hoop-bangers
With hang time like a coat hanger
Jump, with thunderous 360-degree type dunks
What up doc? the monstar funk

(ll cool j)

Lightning strikes and the court lights get dim
Supreme competition is about to begin
Above the rim, finessin' and moves is animated
Once i get to ballin', i can't be deflated
I'm rugged raw, my monstars is gettin' money
When clicks get to buggin', i'm snatchin' up their bunnies (uhh!)
Every step i take shakes the ground
I'll make you break your ankles, son, shakes you down
This is my planet, i'm bout business
The best that ever done it, can i get a witness? (uhhh!)
Cumulus clouds bring darkness up above
You in it for the money?
Or in it for the love, m.j.?
23 ways to make a pay
Loungin' in the mothership back around my way (uhh!)
I'm 28 light years old
If the refs get political, dribble like bob dole
Am i gettin' lyrical?
Daddy, i think so
Monstar droppin' flavor fluid so drink slow

Chorus

(busta rhymes)

Yo, god bless!!
Pick up your chest
Here's an example of how i can stress your full court press
With finesse, i bench-press your stress whenever you test
We're speed ballin', on the fastbreak just like the pony express
I'm gonna mingle in your face and take the lid off
Just use your head and forfeit the game
You and your team just need to back off!!
Get off my block, gimmie the ball, i said it's my rock!!
I'm startin' a line-up by gettin' y'all to bring the livestock
Throw all your money in the pot
And make sure you bet all your money on my bank shot
When we come right through tell me what you really gonna do?
We'll leave your team name in shame and take your talent from you
While you abandon your ship, we take your championship
With nothing left for you to see except the instant replay clip
Money spending, goal tending, stay-bending teams like crash cars
Who do they be?
They be the monstars!!!!!!

Chorus