Throw Your Hands in the Air

[Intro: Barron Ricks]
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 1: 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 Erick Sermon
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 2: B-Real]
Ah 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 (Dark side of your mind)

[Chorus: B-Real]
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Come on)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Everybody now)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (All my brothers do)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Redman)

[Verse 3: 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, 'cause 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, let the jury call it murder
You're deaf 'cause I freak shit you never heard of

[Chorus: B-Real]
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Come on)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (MC Eiht)

[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 (Come on)
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 (Huh)
Hit you, the Tech 9, I'ma split you (Brrrah)
Ain't no poppin', no stoppin'
Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block-and (Woo)
Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this
I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress

[Chorus: B-Real]
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Throw 'em up now)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (In the air yo)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Come on)
Kickin' it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys
Throw your hands in the air (Throw 'em in the air)

Outro: [Barron Ricks]
Aight, for everybody
All our peeps out on the corners
All the alleyways
For all our deceased
Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets
Nineteen ninety-five
Soul Assassins in your mind