[Spoken Intro]
In 1991, an artist in Compton picked up Cypress Hill's debut album
What he heard blew him away
A futuristic funk mixed with a diehard dedication
To a certain [?]
This is the story of Cypress Hill

[Verse 1: B-Real]
I used to carry a Glock on the waist line
Man, I don't waste time
I'm strong on the bass line, you never will taste mine
See me on the screen, fuckers beggin' for face time
Get your own tape but don't bother to chase mine
I got a block, man, we havin' a great time
You couldn't fill the shoes anytime that I laced mine
Light up the stage for the homies we make shine
Sick the dogs on you, get mauled by the K-9
Homies on the yard never walk in the main line
And lames find they can never be in the game
I'm lettin' off rounds, hittin' blunts at the same time
Take a cruise, homie, you a neon to save time
Bitches like you always spittin' the same rhymes
We put you all to shame
You never went through the same grind
Put you in the bind, from the minute you came by
So stay in your lane and get wet by the rain
[Chorus]
You wanna step up, get your ass touched
You wanna rap, son, get your ass buff
Try to test us, you's gonna get smashed up
You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up
Get it
You gotta get your straps up
Get it
You gotta get your stash up
Get it
You gotta get amped up
You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up

[Verse 2: Sen Dog]
I'm right here on the block
When it's time to ride out, you know what I'm all about
Hundred Harley bikes on site when it goes down
Me and my homies, we always holdin' the fort down
Come up in our town and you pissin' a fourth now
Got 4 ounces and 3 bottles of Jack
2 fifth's in the back and everyone I'm with's strapped
Whatever happened to chin checkin' and wreckin' fools
Try disrespecting me, my Smith & Wesson is endin' you
And I ain't changed since back in the day
Get your shit split quick if you get in my face
You wanna run with the Dog? Better stay in your place
'Cause your little ass name don't hold no weight
And your little ass safe couldn't hold my cake
Get your access denied down the road I take
And let me tell you one more thing before I skate
If you a fake or a snake, I'ma send you to your grave
[Chorus]
You wanna step up, get your ass touched
You wanna rap, son, get your ass buff
Try to test us, you's gonna get smashed up
You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up
Get it
You gotta get your straps up
Get it
You gotta get your stash up
Get it
You gotta get amped up
You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up

[Post-Chorus]
[DJ Rippin' with B-Real finish]

[Verse 3: Sen Dog]
I'm a First Staff OG from outta the gutter
With a fucked up demeanor for you punk mothafuckas
Get played like some dicks who try to start ruckas
I'm a real gun busta so don't ever try to rush us
Can't nobody touch us that don't leave on crutches
Or worse, get a ride in a Hearse with their bodies covered
It's gon' be a cold summer, soon as the Hill drops
All bullshit will stop
[Verse 4: B-Real]
A couple sons in the street
And we don't care what you bustas think
It might sink in sometime, but I won't blink
We go against everything, smoke all the green
Got them low arm, swing, it ain't nothing to me
We put it down anywhere like it's something to see
So all you bitches goin' rogue with your haters degree
And when you wanna get loud, son, I'm ready to work
Punks act up and you bound to get hurt

[Chorus]
You wanna step up, get your ass touched
You wanna rap, son, get your ass buff
Try to test us, you's gonna get smashed up
You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up
Get it
You gotta get your straps up
Get it
You gotta get your stash up
Get it
You gotta get amped up
You wanna run wit the dogs? Get your cash up