Strike The Match - Cypress Hill
I’m loaded like a Shotgun
Got one – under my coat
It’s late night no stage fright
I’m going for broke
While I’m hittin’ my smoke
I’m contemplatin’ how to hit
‘em hard hit ‘em fast
Get away; it’s all she wrote
It’s a heartbreaking habit
When you gotta have it
You grab it
Stare at an album so good at it
Certified hood magic
Look at it
Throwin’ too much in your face
And money’s gone; so am I so long
But now my hustle’s changed
No more stickin’ you up
I’ve got some weed
I know that for sure;
That can pick you up
Just spark it up
I got a dime or a twenty sack
All sales are final
Don’t ask for your money back
Don’t even look at the money stack
It’s funny that
It still wasn’t enough
I’m like still searchin’ for honey flack
No I’m servin’ the boulders
Looking over my shoulders
Every step that I take
A rock might knock me over
Strike – the match
Sparks – the flame
It starts
The fire that burns down the system
Hit ‘em hard Hit ‘em fast
Keep the gas on ‘em
We’re gonna char
Get the dogs go gas on ‘em
The hoodrange
A brace to be a gangster
They grew up
And blew up the rock stages
A long way from the gate
But I got Gauges
Dumb ‘em out
Pullin guns out on strangers
A bunch a wild niggas
Nobody can tame us
The sixteen in the clip
One in the chamber
Drive-by’s homicide; shit
I gotta roll a dime
Every day I ran away
My life’s one Columbine
And I’d like to see heads get
So it’s a problem
That’s how I solve
‘em there’s no discussion
Go for my mind
Tell it’s task force rush ‘em
Until the day all I gotta say
Is: “F**k ‘em ”
Strike – the match
Sparks – the flame
It starts
The fire that burns down the system
Hit ‘em hard Hit ‘em fast
Keep the gas on ‘em
We’re gonna char
Get the dogs go gas on ‘em
Post it on the top son – Claw some
Makin’ my way throught the jungle
And then they like I call something
Hustle the streets need
To a hit single put down bitch
Bring a leader
When you’re in the top spot
You better be top notch;
Or not watch the haters take pop shots
It’s non-stop shit talkin’
The conflict
Whoever slick talkin’
I’m ready to harm him
Disarm him
Send his ass away in a coffin
My game is
You don’t seein’ it that often
But every
Day I felt time slip away
Like a heavy ticket on the train
To an early grave
I never worried hater
That what happens I’m okay
Reap what you sough
And every kinda game you play
Never had a handout
Had my hustle’s brand out
Brand out You wish my luck would run out
Strike – the match
Sparks – the flame
It starts
The fire that burns down the system
Hit ‘em hard Hit ‘em fast
Keep the gas on ‘em
We’re gonna char
Get the dogs go gas on ‘em