Southland Killers Lyrics - Stoned Raiders - Cypress Hill

(Intro: MC Ren) 

Yeah, y'all know what the fuck this is 

MC motherfuckin' Ren up in this bitch nigga 

Yeah, all y'all bitch-ass niggas out here talkin all that shit 

We 'bout to drop this motherfucker on y'all like this (gun being loaded) 

Punk ass niggas out here, nigga 

We some Southland Killers in this motherfucker (gun is cocked) 

(GUNSHOT) 

(MC Ren) 

Niggas all acrosss town, up in the suburbs 

While niggas makin' faces like The Rock on the curb 

Nigga People's Elbow, the loud-mouthed hold 

And groupie niggas bangin' for passes to the show (Can I get in?) 

Big-ass cheques wit' plenty of O's (O's) 

And hoes wit' big lips doin' what they suposed (yeah) 

Didn't have shit 'till I started to bust 

And y'all got shit 'cos of my balls are cussed 

Ren and Cypress Hill, they ain't liver than us 

Nigga Legendary Villian, who started the fuss 

Nigga double glock, cocked, get your shit rocked 

Get your crib knocked, nigga have that rib popped 

Under bosses and trouble, they under my rubble 

Clone motherfuckers, always the villain, like The Hubble 

Fuck your bubble, I bust them shits 

Plaques and shit, grab my dick, spit these hits 

Related 

The 18 Greatest Revenge Songs of All Time 

Find Your Next Concert With Live Nation's Tour Stop 

Watch Ariana Grande Sing Her Hits On Carpool Karaoke 

(Chorus: B-Real) 

All, my niggas, do you wanna ride wit' us? 

(Do ya wanna ride wit us?) (Killers!) 

Throw your clips up, man we's about to bust 

(Man we's about to bust) (Killers!) 

Cy-press, Hill click, yeah we ready for war 

(Yeah we ready for war) (Killers!) 

All y'all niggas, better just hit the floor 

(Killers!) 

(King Tee) 

I'm close to the best thing, on the West Wing 

Blown out your set, flames when the best sing 

It's a rep thing, haters feel they chest pain 

They feel it in they heart, I was there to test things 

Didn't arrest (?), the bullet-proof vest team 

These niggas shoot first they they askin (?) names 

It's less strain 

It's all real, I bet fame, it's a chess game 

Wrong move and it's checkmate (That's right) 

I might sound funny out here 

But really, niggas get money out here 

And hey, everyday is sunny out here 

So listen, don't play dummy out here 

King try for bust make your whole pack run 

Stacked enough cash so now I stack guns 

Fat ones, all cold and black ones 

Southland Killin', it's just how that's done 

Photos 

(Chorus) 

(Sen Dog and B-Real) 

You can try to ride with the Hill, lie on the Hill 

but when your shit (?) is when die on the Hill 

We get, hot on the heel, rely on the steel 

When your paper gets pulled and you design is steeled 

Like you, signed the deal, or signed over your will 

(Sen Dog) BUSTERS GET SLAYED...! 

(B-Real) 

...when you fuck around with Real 

Take time to feel, what I'm tellin' you hoes (Tellin' you hoes) 

You couldn't fuck around with me if I was sellin' you blows 

Just goes to show the incredible skill tell 

Bitch nigga, now you trapped under my wig well 

Gettin trampled, DUMPED on and thumped on 

Scraped on the six-five with the HAND ON THE PUMP SONG 

(Sen Dog) 

Don't even fuck with these Southland grandes 

We the vatos that run on Los Angeles 

Call me Mad Dog, if you think you know me 

If you're not sure then turn around and LEAVE SLOWLY! 

(Chorus)