Prelude To A Come Up (featuring MC Eiht) (LP Version)

Prelude To A Come Up(featuring MC Eiht) (LP Version) - Cypress Hill/MC Eiht

Written by：Larry Muggerud/Louis Freese/MC Eiht/A. Johnson/K. Muchita/N. Wilson/F. Malave/J. Grinnage/C. Karrer/P. Leopold/S. Zauner

Soul assassins two times stick 'em

Geeyeah cypress hill three times come on

Geeyeah

Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin'

Cross the seven seas eased clockin' much conversation

Penetration you know we gets busy no hesitation

Greenery hand-picked from my own plantation

Feels the heat under the sombrero

To any amigo that's tryin' to stop the dineros

Chills with senoritas like charro

Get drunk off tequila lay low till tomorrow

Follow my flow get the cash and go

Call my homey b-rizzy in mexico city

Loose lips sink ships faker faces got guilt

Didn't mean to call you late I need a hideout till

Cool homey I'll bring some f**kin' skunk

The homey smuggle me across lines in a trunk

Just like a bird I'm free in a land

With no f**kin' extradition treaty I'm out geyeah

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

With the crew from off the hill

B-really killin' the phillie now can you feel me from the

Soul assassin committee the shitty niggaz never thrill me

You silly b**ches never respect neglect money

You funny or broke think it's a joke your nose is runny

Got my main man mr rocho kickin' the vocals

From the eastside where it's loco sellin' the poco

From the two g's breakin' the leaves of cheese makin' the bacon

You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin'

Evading the pigs raiding my crib I'm mad lib

And I wanna live and I'm givin' the message droppin' the lesson

Flippin' sh*t and I'm keepin''em guessin' they all stressin'

Hit the lullaby no confession we in session

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

With the crew from off the hill

We's beez the three amigos skates with nickel plates

Under the seat and we goes east coast west coast anybody killer

Soul assassins gets the cash and smash

Who spits the glocks like uno and dos

Makin' your body disappear like a ghost

One time's tryin' to gaffle me harassin' me

Tryin' to send me to the penitentiary

In the nighttime niggaz are creepin' you f**kin' sleepin'

And the beat just keeps on seepin' into the street

While you peakin' I'm meetin' and greetin' the people speakin'

And leadin' the motherf**kers who's seekin' to catch ruckus

Meaning you suckers no luckers overdub us nut hug us

You love us you can't stop these mad audio hustlers

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god

Sh*t is real on the motherf**kin' hill god