
Band of Gypsies Cypress Hill (Ft. Fifty El Ostora - فيفتي الأسطورة & Sadat El 3almy - سادات العالمي)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Band of Gypsies" от Cypress Hill (Ft. Fifty El Ostora - فيفتي الأسطورة & Sadat El 3almy - سادات العالمي). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Intro: Sadat]
ياعم يا بتاع الحشيش، أنا عايز حشيشة طرية
أستنى يا بي ريل، دا الواجب دا عليا
الحشيشة اللي في جيبه غير الحشيشة اللي في إيديا
الحشيشة اللي في جيبه غير الحشيشة اللي في إيديا
ونصطبح أنا وأنت ونولع الدنيا
ونشرب سطفا حلوة ونسميها: كايروفورنيا
[Verse 1: B-Real]
You're lookin' at the last of a dyin' breed
Weeded up, please, speed it up
Sittin' in the Cali sun heated up
Inked arm needled up
Rocket style, Don Cheadle'd up
I put the fear of God in people, what
People lookin' at me sideways like I'm on the verge
Like them on the purp that's blazed, I don't say a word
You don't wanna follow me, son
You ain't got the nerve
You just wanna swerve with a little herb, absurd
Got you paranoid in the paragraph when I paraphrase
Got a pair of Jordan's dancin' on your fuckin' face
Paralyzed, see the paranormal paratroops
Summoned by the Grandmaster as he prepares to loose
Temple doors open up, smoke billows out
Now you hoping, what, for mercy? Get your soul brilloed out
From another hood, you ain't really fuckin' with our brotherhood
Even if another could, I wish a motherfucker would
Clip it up or sip it up
Listen, I prefer to trip it up
Chem skippy ya'll bitter fucks
I can take a bigger chunk
And if I'm callin' dark figures up
Don't make a move, they light triggers up
Muggs, cut 'em up, chka-chka, what, huh
(This is for the-)
ياعم يا بتاع الحشيش، أنا عايز حشيشة طرية
أستنى يا بي ريل، دا الواجب دا عليا
الحشيشة اللي في جيبه غير الحشيشة اللي في إيديا
الحشيشة اللي في جيبه غير الحشيشة اللي في إيديا
ونصطبح أنا وأنت ونولع الدنيا
ونشرب سطفا حلوة ونسميها: كايروفورنيا
[Verse 1: B-Real]
You're lookin' at the last of a dyin' breed
Weeded up, please, speed it up
Sittin' in the Cali sun heated up
Inked arm needled up
Rocket style, Don Cheadle'd up
I put the fear of God in people, what
People lookin' at me sideways like I'm on the verge
Like them on the purp that's blazed, I don't say a word
You don't wanna follow me, son
You ain't got the nerve
You just wanna swerve with a little herb, absurd
Got you paranoid in the paragraph when I paraphrase
Got a pair of Jordan's dancin' on your fuckin' face
Paralyzed, see the paranormal paratroops
Summoned by the Grandmaster as he prepares to loose
Temple doors open up, smoke billows out
Now you hoping, what, for mercy? Get your soul brilloed out
From another hood, you ain't really fuckin' with our brotherhood
Even if another could, I wish a motherfucker would
Clip it up or sip it up
Listen, I prefer to trip it up
Chem skippy ya'll bitter fucks
I can take a bigger chunk
And if I'm callin' dark figures up
Don't make a move, they light triggers up
Muggs, cut 'em up, chka-chka, what, huh
(This is for the-)
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