"b**h-a** motherf**a! Peter Pie a** n***a! Stand on your own two feet, b**h! How the f** you gon' bite somebody else's dick, n***a? Yours ain't long enough to put in your mouth! What's up with that sh**?"
(Background): "'Turn that sh** 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 motherf**er 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 n***az' game
But I'm the wrong n***a you wanna f** with
On my dick so hard, now ya wanna s** it
Go on the head, gobble up the nuts
Get your lips ready and tear this motherf**er up
Talk about Eazy, correct yourself
Cube, better sit back and check yourself
"Yeah, n***a! My homie thought he had a homie in you. He let you listen to our motherf**in' cut, and you turned around and put some old "Friday" sh** out. What kind of sh** is that?"
Hmmm... Let's talk about this
First solo album on the east coast dick
The east coast n***az all showed ya love
Especially the one known as the King Sun
He tried to warn us n***az about ya
But nobody would listen
Even began dissin'
Two albums later, you callin' my crew
All because ya wanna be Cypress Cube
Shoulda known that you couldn't hang in the alley
Good boy went to school out in the valley
f** 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 a** up!)
Lench Mob is a friend of mine
But you talked about them n***az from behind
"You know what a chazzer is, O'Shea?
A motherf**ing pig that don't fly straight"
Where ya gonna run to? Where ya gonna hide?
Taadow, look at who's waitin' outside
"I got a can of kick-a** wit' your motherf**in' name on it, Cube. You wanna come collect it, or should I bring it to you? 'Cause all that bullsh** you doin', ain't sh** fly about that sh**... motherf**in' thing, and I ain't bullsh**tin'. You beat them back then f** off, and that's real. Kick rocks buster."
Natural Born Bullsh**ta
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 sh**?
Would ya wet me or start throwing up a set?
Caution, when you enter the zone
Never used to bang 'til you hit the microphone
I got Cube melting in a tray
Pulling up his card and f**ing up his "good day"
Unoriginal rap veteran
The n***a who say he don't steal from his friends
Don't trust that n***a named O'Shea
f** 'im, and send him on his way!
"Cypress muthaf**in' Hill, the hardest mothaf**in' posse there is out here n***a. So how d'you figure you was gonna step to this? Yeah n***a, the big damn-wham-bam Cypress Hill. Tibby-tibby-toe fool, all for your mothaf**in' dope. n***a, you can't hang with the hill. W' the f** you was thinkin' about? You know you step to this, you gotta step correct, 'cause Cypress ain't havin' that sh**. Yeah n***a, we crack and f** you next, who gives a f**, a mad f**? So bring it on, if you wanna test it."