Method Man

Cisco Kid
* send corrections to the typist We gonna get you high (*whispered in background 6 times*) Let's get high (*whispered in background 2 times*) (B-Real) I flow rhymes off just like weed in your chest Think you got endo, hold your breath Spittin on the track with Red and Meth Holdin up a fat, when you smoke a cassette Or CDs, we bees the ones with the Ouija's Spread it on the arm, come on believe me Look who it is, it's the funky feel Smokin assassin from Cypress Hill We think she's just resonated? Fillin my brain till it's saturated When you get the crushed weed and cultivate it Give it to the hoes who love to hate it Cause blunts get filled like Hershey Highways I don't give a fuck who sits where I blaze Chillin at the rainbow high and faded You saving that bump(??), then isolate it (Method Man) Is there a Doctor in the house? We like fuck that, nut sacks in your mouth Letras de cancionesLemme show you what a thug about We can talk or we can slug it out Better yet, you can bark like a bitch when I thug it out There it is, a better a kid, ahead of his Time to settle this, like men I'm pipin hot, exciting Right in the gym or hype in them, alright then All day I drink and smoke Shell toe with ankles in ya both Cent, five cents, ten cents, dollar Rocwilder blend the track and getting hotter Ask your boy, now pass your boy something to smoke Cause you have had nothing to throat, swallow Bang the track, bring your bat Ain't too many that can hang with that So why bother (Chorus) Cisco Kid was a friend of mine Hell yea Cisco Kid was a friend of mine Hell yea He drank whiskey, Pancho drank the wine Hell yea He drank whiskey, Pancho drank the wine Hell yea (Cypress Hill) Yea, send all, and fall back And who wrote on this track I don't really give a fuck Put the pen down lets toss them up Soul assasins, Latin thugs Whole damn world know about us Rhymes we kick and weed we pour Get tus vatos all fucked up And sing along to my get high song Had you choking off of four foot bong Cypress Hill and weed, can't go wrong Keep you smoking like Cheech and Chong (Redman) Yo, call me that Doctor P-Funk or chronic blower Pussy smoker, strap toker, back broker Hash burns in your pull out sofa This is my brain on drugs Move out my way cuz, cause I might run you over Bitches bounce your titties I bounce with a pump shotgun Look out, the highest man in the world Walkin off with my hand on your girl Can't drink and can't stand in the world Niggas, two puffs and then pass me the L What you talking about I'm not high enough to start that party Triple beater enter the stage with a gauge Don't shoot nobody What you ain't high enough? Do I gotta jump out there and tie you up? Strap a bomb to your mouth Till you wired up Till the Park Ranger call the Firetruck And said “Hey motherfucker, what you be smoking on?” I said “Hey motherfucker, why do you want some?” Yo, yo, give me the gun, we don't need to fight Hold that blunt, I'll give you a light Don't no nigga want to die tonight With all this weed, get high tonight.. BITCH! Chorus 2 times From Letras Mania