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Cypress Hill lyrics : "Dead Men Tell No Tales"

[B-Real]
Pam Pa Ra Ra [4x]


Any die, if the beholder the soldier begins to bore
Four score, seven bullets (Yeah hit the floor ^!$$%!)
Take you outdoor, darkness frightens you even more

I'm here to enlighten you, with the hardcore
Bring it raw, like the red, dead meat, in your plate
And I'll fill you up with the energy the Hill create

I gets sticky, like a green bag of the bomb diggy
Now I'm $#&@in with your head, and you realize that it's tricky
Got you paranoid, feeling the void, you can't take it

The reward bein destroyed, freakazoid toy
With ya mind, all styles deployed, you find danger
in the stranger's eye, the killin comes second nature

Your battle filled up the mind it's fallin out, hear you callin out
for help, and all the $#&@in yellin to is yourself
Crawlin and beggin for mercy means nothing when you bluffin

I'm pushin the button and straight dumpin on fools frontin

[Sen Dog]

Boo-yah!... come on, mother$#&@er

[B-Real]

Pam Pa Ra Ra [4x]

WAR pigs, you dig, see kickin out Mr. Big

Take a sip of wine, engage in a battle of the mind (Checkmate mother$#&@er!)
You feelin the force, meant for remorse, right from the source
Your head is, gettin $#&@ed and I'm skippin the intercourse

Behold, the Mic Horse, you're takin a loss ^!$$%
Got the Nina Ross, don't need no cross, my $#&@in paper
chaser green bag gladiator, terminator weed germaniator

The greater the risk you $#&@in hater
Hit you with the pyscho beta, clickin the fader slow
with the Hi-Lo, servin the blow, who got the glow

Dead men tale no tales, you fail to see the reason
I'm easing to squeeze the trigger, go figure, it's killin season


[Sen Dog]
Nighty-night, motha$#&@a


[B-Real]
Pam Pa Ra Ra [7x]

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