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No Rest For The Wicked

This song is by Cypress Hill and appears on the album Cypress Hill III (Temple Of Boom) (1995).

"Bitch-ass motherfucka! Peter Pie ass nigga! Stand on your own two feet, bitch! How the fuck you gon' bite somebody else's dick, nigga? Yours ain't long enough to put in your mouth! What's up with that shit?"
(Background): "'Turn that shit up louder!'
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 all steep
Jackson, lemme figure out the name
Jack 'cause you be stealing other niggaz' 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 and tear this motherfucker up
Talk about Eazy, correct yourself
Cube, better sit back and check yourself

"Yeah, nigga! 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?"

Hmmm... Let's talk about this
First solo album on the east coast dick
The east coast niggaz all showed ya love
Especially the one known as the King Sun
He tried to warn us niggaz about ya
But nobody would listen
Even began dissin'
Two albums later, you callin' my crew
All because ya wanna be Cypress Cube (No way, motherfucker!)
Shoulda known that 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 'Boys in the Hood'
"No Vaseline"
Just a rope and a chair and gasoline (burning your ass up!)
Lench Mob is a friend of mine
But you talked about them niggaz 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?
Taadow, look at who's waitin' outside! (Cypress, motherfucker!)

"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 need to back the 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
While 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 till you hit the microphone (Studio gangsta!)
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! ("I don't steal from my friends!")
Don't trust that nigga named O'Shea
Fuck 'I'm, and send him on his way!

"Cypress muthafuckin' Hill, the hardest mothafuckin' posse there is out here nigga. So how d'you figure you was gonna step to this? Yeah nigga, the big damn-wham-bam Cypress Hill. Tibby-tibby-toe fool, all for your mothafuckin' dope. Nigga, 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 nigga, we crack and fuck you next, who gives a fuck, a mad fuck? So bring it on, if you wanna test it."