CYPRESS HILL


Killafornia Lyrics

[B-Real]
Living in the city of the Scandalous
Shisty motherf*ckers, can't even trust my own brothers
So who can I choose to trust, me, that's who
Niggas want a piece of the pie, f*ck off and die!
Jealous, envious fools want to rush this
Loco, trooping ass nigga with the cash, shit
Motherf*ckers just get your own, and leave mine alone
Forty-five places to get done
Send out your invitation
To the party of your elimination
I got peeps that play for keeps, (Hardball)
Now I'm laying your ass down to sleep
But every hustler wants to be bawling
But I got the balls for the shot calling
I pull strings, the Don King, only in America
Then I hustle, and flex my muscle

[Hustlers]
--Yeah, man, I've been out here
running game for eight years
--I know I'm getting tired of standing
on this corner
--Nigga, I want a fat pad, and fly ass pool
Finest motherf*cking bitches, jewels
and all that shit, if I got to take it
from a nigga
--Shit, let him run for me then
--I can work for myself, don't have to
work for nobody, I'll be my own hustler

[B-real]
Where can I roam to get my hustle on
Killafornia, stacking the chips, got the full clips
Loaded and cocked, I'm used to running with the Glock
Nina Millimeter, lighting up the f*cking block
Now, who you gonna trust?, who can you trust?
I don't know, but if you coming on my corner
I think I'm gonna bust
You can't handle us, devious, dangerous
Criminal mentality, insanity
I move weight, from state to state
All the niggas moving weights, can you relate?

[Hustlers]
--Damn, what's up, I see you
pushing that big time weight
--I told you, I wasn't bullshitting
--You coming up, aight!
--When I seen you three or four
months ago I told you
--Got respect for a man now
--Handle your shit!

[B-Real]
Where can I choose to get my hustle on?
In the alleyway, lighting up all night long
f*ck working at McD's, I'm rolling with the O.Z's
In the QP's, puffing on trees
Who can I trust?, who can you trust?
Not that shady motherf*cker in the city Los Scandalous

[Hustlers]
--Well, well, little man came up a little bit
--It feels good having money in the pocket
--f*ck that nine to five bullshit, right?
--Yeah, kick that shit to the curb
--But you got to look out for the scandalous motherf*ckers
Cuz niggas is tricky than a motherf*cker
--Yeah, but motherf*ckers got to look out for us too
You know what I'm saying
I'm just as shisty as a nigga
--Shit, set me up and niggas are gonna die
--You get set up back, cuz we ain't having that bullshit
--I got your back, you got mine, that goes without saying
--Twenty-seven and mo' baby, twenty-seven and mo'
--Let's get the f*ck out of here"

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Songwriter(s): Timothy Armstrong, Travis Barker, Louis M. Freeze, Larry Muggerud, Rob Aston
Record Label(s): 1995 Sony Music Entertainment Inc
Official lyrics by

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