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(B-Real) Yo Alchemist we takin it back on this one my nigga Ya dig? Cypress Hill, Soul Assassins, uh As the game gets older all you niggaz get younger You put your hand in my plate, go 'head and question my hunger I'll show you how the 6 spit a barrel of thunder Shoot the math one round, put you six feet under Pour the liquor out, for my homey who didn't make it We hold your name up, and celebrate it, never be faded You on the grind and sometimes shit boggles your mind How you got away with the crimes and you prospered Took advantage, of every single thing life has to offer Thugs never got nothin nice in the brain See cold-blooded ass niggaz swish ice in their veins You blinded by the ice on the chains Divided by the price of the fame You rollin like dice in the game It's a gamble, too hot to handle Got to know when to hold 'em, fold 'em and then scramble Move quick, we blow your head out like a candle.. candle.. (Chorus: repeat 2X) Y'all know I got the shotty pumpin So you know I'm gonna body somethin Got the blood in your body pumpin Letras de cancionesBig guns that'll keep your party jumpin (B-Real) I get... more from the hustle I get... more money, more problems I get... all the look stoned people I get... pigs knockin on my door I get... hard times all over I get... bitches schemin on me I get... dough cash in a tight-ass grip I get you a casket bitch! From Letras Mania