Miss B - Grown Man Ft. Torica lyrics

[Chorus]

Don't you trip this is the Soul Assassins

We come and blast them

We Eastside riders, this is how we doin'

[B-Real]

I spent hot days under the sun with all my loved ones

Soul Assassins family click you know the dark one

Eastside hellraisers, promoters pay us

To tear the roof of this shit, the mic blazers

Smoke alarms goin off, flowin off

The track, got em showin off, blowin off

All wack niggas choke in coal, eat a dick up

Pick up ya teeth out the street flossin holes

God knows weedniggas ya figured ya find ways

To escape the path of the serial rhyme-killa

Top billa, bankaccount filla

Spittin out more hot shit then Godzilla

The firebreatha, turn up your receiva

I attack the brain through the sound in ya speaka

No you can't fuck with this...

No you can't fuck with this...

Chorus

[B-Real]

You can't hold back the fury, I bury you in a hurry

Rhymestyle non-stop commin in a flurry

Don't worry, Imma settle this, get the fist

I sever your vocalcord with a flick of my wrist

You insist to be here, I make this clear

It's a game of cut-throat from ear to ear

Can you hang in the world when, where ya girlfriend

Hanging with my crew and steady serving

Come get your feeling hurt and come act hard

I got a ditch in my backyard for all you scared niggas

I make figures for all the soldiers to follow

Peace to my fam, bands who won't see the ...

I see you in the next one, I test one

When you flex son, respect one, the best one

Cypress Hill, Soul Assassins, blastin you on

In the race called life yo we passin you on

Chorus

Don't you trip this is the Soul Assassins

We come and blast them

We Eastside riders, this is how we doin'

Don't you trip this is the Soul Assassins

Who wanna be stupid come be the first to die