(feat. Fat Joe)
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[Verse One: B-Real]
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Sipping on tequila, with Sheila, no doubt I'm bringing her on
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Keeping her warm, leaving her heated like Tiger Balm
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In the hot sun city of Mexico, it's a pity
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My committee of witty niggas ain't with me to get gritty
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Rhymey as fuck on the track, snappin your head back
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Get the medic, cause a victim from my nigga Joey Crack
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Stomping the wax, niggas spittin on wax
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Giving the facts, beginners lack the methods of kicking wicked records
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A second of time switch, as styles piles up
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Mountains of various flows to rile up
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Now what you wanna do, nigga? Tequila sunrise, nigga!
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I'm coming to town with my bigger boogie down figga
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It's the live shit, do you think you can survive it?
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When you decide it, leave it to me and Joe can provide it
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Cracking open the golden, holdin the bomb load
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While records are selling singles, my albums are getting sold
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Kicking the universal, never commercial techniques
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Bang in the clubs, bang in the jeeps, bang in the streets
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[Chorus:]
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Tequila Sunrise, bloodshot eyes
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Realize we're all born to die
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So get the money, nigga!
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[x4]
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[Verse Two: Fat Joe]
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Now I'm back for the new year, yeah, I volunteer
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Sources pioneer, millionaire status here
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I never had no fear sellin records
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I resurrected on my third, that's my word, it's a high selection
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And everybody know standing near me,
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I'm dangerous like Shannon Greary
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Making the whole planet hear me
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You feel me? I'm on my road to the riches
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With hoes and bitches fulfilling my goals and my wishes
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My flows is vicious, but showin' niggas since the early 90's
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Where Onyx at? Niggas rockin' both easy 'round a grammy
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Don't mind me, I just call 'em how I see 'em
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Most these rappers is actors living off per diem
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Me? I'm on my own shit, nothing but gold hits
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Claimin the throne with my thuggish ruggish Bone clique
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On the phone-flip, talking to B
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He scooped me up in the six, we 'bout to hit overseas, what!
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[Chorus]
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[Outro]
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[each overlapping the other]
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[B-Real:]
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That's right, we hitting you with the L.A./Bronx connection
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Soul Assassins, Terror Squad family
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All up in your dome... ha!
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That's right, Soul Assassins style, Cypress Hill IV
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Knocking on your door for the ninety-eight
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That's right, eat the worm, motherfucker
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[Fat Joe:]
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Yeah... Terror Squad, Soul Assassins
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B-Real, Joey Crack... wha-wha-wha-what!
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Ugh! Puttin' it down, nigga!
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East coast, West coast
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And it's all the same, hahahaha... yeah, yeah
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Tequila Sunrise (Uncensored Remix)
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| Cypress Hill |
