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Cypress Hill F/ Fat Joe Miscellaneous Tequila Sunrise (Remix Radio Edit) Intro (scratching samples) Verse One: B-Real Sipping on tequila, with Sheila, no doubt I'm bringing her on Keeping her warm, leaving her heated like Tiger Balm In the hot sun city of Mexico, it's a pity My committee of *edited* with me to get gritty Rhyme *edited* on the track, snappin' your head back Get the medic, cause a victim from *edited* Joey Crack Stomping the wax *edited* spittin' on wax Giving the facts, beginners lack the methods of kicking wicked records A second of time switch, as styles piles up *edited* of various flows to rile up So what you wanna do? Tequila sunrise *edited* Coming to town with my bigger boogie down figga It's the lies, *edited* do you think you can survive it? When you decide it, leave it to me and Joe can provide it Cracking open the golden, holdin' the bomb load While records are selling singles, my albums are getting sold Kicking the universal, never commercial techniques Banging the clubs, banging the jeeps Banging the streets Chorus Tequila Sunrise, bloodshot eyes Realize we're all born to die So get the money, money... (repeat 4x) Verse Two: Fat Joe Now I'm back for the new year, yeah I volunteer Sources pioneer, millionaire status here I never had no fear sellin' records I resurrected on my third, that's my word, it's a high selection And everybody know standing near me, I'm dangerous like Shannon Greary Making the whole planet hear me You feel me? I'm on my road to the riches Where hoes and *edited* fulfilling my goals and my wishes My flows is vicious, but showin' *edited* since the early 90's Where Onyx at? *edited* rockin' both easy *edited* 'round a grammy Don't mind me, I just call 'em how I see 'em Most these rappers is actors living off per diem Me? I'm on my own *edited*, nothing but gold hits Claimin' the with throne with my 'thuggish, ruggish Bone' click On the phone-flip, talking to B He scooped me up in the six, we 'bout to hit overseas, what! Chorus Outro (each overlapping the other) B-Real: That's right, we hitting you with the L.A./Bronx connection Soul Assassins, Terror Squad family All up in your dome... ha! That's right, Soul Assassins style, Cypress Hill IV Knocking on your door for the ninety-eight That's right, eat the worm... Fat Joe: Yeah... Terror Squad, Soul Assassins B-Real, Joey Crack... wha-wha-wha-what! Ugh! Puttin' it down, nigga East coast, West coast And it's all the same, hahahaha... yeah, yeah |
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