Chilly Chill - Guerillas in Tha Mist lyrics

[Verse 1] Come down and beware of the black fist The guerillas straight mutherf**ing k**ers in the mist Take a shot Buck Buck but you can't who*e us Never thought you'd see South Central n***as in the forest! Don't kick in the chorus just yet Cause we ain't made a mess yet Lench Mob produce the best yet Comin real hard man Bumpin in your car man Finally caught up with a devil named Tarzan. Swingin on a vine s**in on a piece of swine Jiggaboo come up from behind Hit him with a coconut Stab him in his gut Push him out the tree He falls right on his nuts And just like EPMD I don't like a b**h Named J to tha A to tha N-E Can't wait to meet her I'm gonna k** 'er Cause that little motherf**ing Cheetah can't hang with a guerilla [Verse 2] You try to pay me off with a banana But J-Dee is blacker than a city called Atlanta Give me some elbow room, I need some elbow room So I can boom shak-a-lak boom That's the sound of the twenty gauge Lock us up and the Lench Mob can break out of any cage You never even hear of this, I'm takin care of this Lench Mob environmental terrorists f** Grape Ape and Magilla! I'm a k**a Magilla Gorilla, ain't a k**a White boys like Godzilla But my super n***a named King Kong Played his a** like ping-pong. So motherf**ers get the ding-dong Or the bozack. What's that? Dick and nut sack. So get your bu*ts back from the black fist Cap peelers the guerillas in the mist! [Verse 3] Va-voom here comes a n***a from the dark side Talking bout a brand new apartheid. South Central straight ghetto native Gotta show these devil muthaf**ers what I'm made of! Yes, never smoke the sess Only hit the Buddha when I'm beatin on my chest I'm laying in a cut, I'm laying in a cut I'm laying in a cut 'bout to shoot me a mutt (with what?) With the BOOM, PING, PING! Listen to the ill sh** that I bring bring! Nappy headed n***a, coming out the mist The smog, the fog Ice Cube is my motherf**ing dog, yes Kicking mutts, Smoking humps The guerillas, rollin' four deep with the bumps Short Dog got the muthaf**ing pump And it's true, T-Bone got the twenty-two That's how it's done So you better run yo' Run your a** out the jungle Cause hear the guns go and we don't miss The Lench Mob, the guerillas in the mist!