|
I got nothin to lose, i'm goin all out |
|
The deuce never stop, i refuse to play by the rules |
|
Uptight, when you steppin into the night, right |
|
Pigs comin up and shinin the bright light |
|
Nothin better to do, than fuck with the pride |
|
When you hide behind your badge, your gun and ride |
|
Billy club show me no love, think you above |
|
All the fuss and the locs is rushin in too close |
|
Let me lay it on the table, forget stable |
|
Freak niggaz, comin to slay to the label |
|
You got nothin to lose, come on choose |
|
Stay away from niggaz that bring down your crew |
|
Whatever it takes, you make or break yourself |
|
With the wealth or the chance to stay in good health |
|
Sword blade swingin you back off away |
|
And the track off the real, straight off the hill |
|
What the deal motherfucker? |
|
Chorus: b-real, sen dog |
|
I got nothin to lose (i'm goin all out) |
|
Nothin to lose (you gonna fall out) time run out |
|
(i'm goin all out) nothin to lose (i'm goin all out) |
|
Lightin the fuse to the bomb (better run out) |
|
Nothin to lose (i'm goin all out) |
|
Nothin to lose (you gonna fall out) time run out |
|
(i'm goin all out) nothin to lose (i'm goin all out) |
|
Lightin the fuse to the bomb (better run out) |
|
[sen dog] |
|
I'm goin all out, showin y'all what i'm about |
|
Gettin in your mental, knockin niggaz out |
|
Takin this pencil, across the brain |
|
Ain't stoppin there til the rhymes all drained |
|
All out my system, take em, and then i twist em |
|
Put em out one day and see, who wanna diss em |
|
As you fold i'll sting ya, run up and you bitch up |
|
Y'all get the picture, just call mr. excitement |
|
Comin with the thunder and lightning |
|
Shit is quite frightening how niggaz keep biting |
|
So i keep the writing, down for the fighting |
|
Cold with the flows, they both quite exciting |
|
And let me take space up, heat your face up |
|
I'm goin all out, before the raise up |
|
Chorus |
|
Come on, come on |
|
[b-real] |
|
I'm goin all out, nothin to lose, you better roll out |
|
Sold out, niggaz be livin in times run out |
|
In the present smell the prescence of what you stressin |
|
You get sent a lesson ain't missin the point blessin |
|
Expression, feelin the tension over the session |
|
The question, fillin your body with intention |
|
Don't mention the profession, keep adressin |
|
The real motherfuckers in the crowd pay attention |
|
I'm goin the fuck out, smith and wesson |
|
You better stall me out, no extension |
|
Only the strong will ever be settin the pace |
|
When you look up i'm gone and never left a trace |
|
No worries, set you with flurries and no juries |
|
Eight million stories in the city of furies |
|
Don't get the twist, you listen or get the fist |
|
I got nothin to lose so i gat fools with this |
|
Chorus |
|
[sen dog] |
|
Oh yeah, cypress hill massive once again |
|
Comin to your record shop |
|
Check this out, we ain't takin no prisoners |
|
We choppin heads off |
|
And you steppin at me, you better be goin all out baby |
|
This is war baby, from now until the new m-m-mm-mm-millelnium |