Highlife Cypress Hill

[Verse 1: B-Real]
I rolled you up like my Rizla
Cut you up, with my scissors
You wanna get us, yeah, the venom spitters
Your style's trash: don't litter
You got the jitters, the hard hitters
No quitters, your soul quivers
When you see the gats blazin', get out the street now
There ain't no use for you beggin' to turn the heat down
You label me coldblooded
You wanna warm me up with hot lead, the gat thudded
You can't cut it
You wack, but it's no use, your mouth shut it
Shootin' arrows diamond-studded, and still budded
You got to love it, you better chase the paper all day
So you can walk down the long platinum hallway
But now the fools are minutemade;
They get played for a minute
Then played out they never get back in it
Gun park, I bring chalk, for your body outlined on the floor
You got hit by the 4-4!

[Chorus: B-Real]
You're in the game called life, son, how you're livin' it
Street corner kids growin' up, blowin' up
You chase dreams, you want the highlife, with the skylights
But in the end your soul's lost, you lost the shine right
Never turn your back ever, on niggas true to you
Stand alone for the cheddar, and they'll be through with you
The highlife; yeah, the highlife
The highlife; yeah, the highlife