No Rest for the Wicked

Bitch ass motherfucka

Peter Pie ass ****

Stand on your own two feet, bitch

How the fuck you gon' bite somebody else's dick, ****?

Yours ain't long enough to put in your mouth

What's up with that shit?

Muggs, make it rough

So many fools swingin' from my sack

Let's talk about the one who had my back

Down in the West Coast, so lemme kick it

To the motherfucker who calls himself "Wicked"

No rest, no peace, no sleep

Doughboy rolling down the hill cause it's so steep

Jackson, lemme figure out the name

Jack cause you be stealing other ****' game

But I'm the wrong **** you wanna fuck with

On my dick so hard, now ya wanna suck it

Go on the head, gobble up the nuts

Get your lips ready and tear this motherfucker up

Talk about Eazy, correct yourself

Cube, better step back and check yourself

Yeah, ****! My homie thought he had a homie in you

He let you listen to our motherfuckin' cut

And you turned around and put some "Old Friday" shit out

What kind of shit is that?

Let's talk about this

First solo album on the East Coast dick

The East Coast **** all showed ya love

Especially the one known as King Sun

He tried to warn us **** aboutcha

But nobody would listen even began dissin'

Two albums later, you callin' my crew

All because ya wannabe Cypress Cube

Shoulda known you couldn't hang in the alley

Good boy went to school out in the valley

Fuck it, lemme make this understood

Speakin' on mama's little boy in the hood

No Vaseline

Just a rope and a chair and gasoline

Lench Mob is a friend of mine

But you talk about them **** from behind

You know what a chazzer is, O'Shea?

A motherfucking pig that don't fly straight

Where ya gonna run to? Where ya gonna hide?

Tadow! Look at who's running outside!

I got a can of kick-ass wit' your motherfuckin' name on it, Cube

You wanna come collect it, or should I bring it to you?

Cause all that bullshit you doin', ain't shit fly about that shit

Motherfuckin' thing, and I ain't bullshittin'

You beat them back then fuck off, and that's real

Kick rocks buster

Natural Born Bullshitta

Lemme hit ya with a dose of reality when I get wit' ya

Your homie came knockin', he had to chain my suit

You put a pipe on your cover, even though you don't smoke Buddha

Let me take you down under on a plane

Where everybody was going insane

Took a look at the real one afro gone

The next morning, you didn't have yours on

How many ways will you bite my shit?

Would ya wet me or start throwing up a set?

Caution, when you enter the zone

Never used to bang 'til you heard the microphone

I got Cube melting in a Tray

Pulling up his card and fucking up his "Good day"

Unoriginal rap veteran

The **** who say he don't steal from his friends

Don't trust that **** named O'Shea

Fuck him, and send him on his way!

Cypress muthafuckin' Hill

The hardest mothafuckin' posse there is out here, ****

So how d'you figure you was gonna step to this?

Yeah ****, the big damn-wham-bam Cypress Hill

Tibby-tibby-toe fool, all for your mothafuckin' dope

****, you can't hang with the hill

W' the fuck you was thinkin' about?

You know you step to this, you gotta step correct

Cause Cypress ain't havin' that shit

Yeah ****, we crack and fuck you next, who gives a fuck, a mad fuck?

So bring it on, if you wanna test it