No Rest For The Wicked

Album: Cypress Hill III: Temples of Boom (1995)
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  • 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 niggas' game!
    But I'm the wrong nigga 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 & tear this motherfucker up!
    Talk about Eazy, correct yourself
    Cube, better step back & check yourself!

    Hmmm let's talk about this
    First solo album on the east coast dick
    The east coast niggas all showed ya love
    Especially the one known as King Sun
    He tried to warn us niggas about 'cha
    But nobody would listen
    Even began dissin'
    Two albums later, you callin' my crew
    All because ya wannabe Cypress Cube (No way, motherfucker!)
    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 N the Hood
    No Vaseline
    Just a rope and a chair and gasoline (burning your ass up!)
    Lynch Mob is a friend of mine
    But you talk about them niggas 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!

    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 nigga who say he don't steal from his friends
    Don't trust that nigga named O'Shea
    Fuck him, and send him on his way! Writer/s: Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze
    Publisher: SOUL ASSASSINS INC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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