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Killa Hill Niggas
Cypress Hill, Buddah Monks
Popularity · Low
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
Esto no me gusta
Aquí la gente, la gente no sirve pa mierda
Aquí yo soy, yo soy Capitán Pingaloca
Y to' mundo aquí me sirve a mí o va pa'l carajo
Oye, ¡revolución, compadre!
In the midst of the madness to question, who's the baddest?
MC's in the game runnin' for the status
Take a few seconds to review the crews
Sittin' on top is the Hill lookin' over you
Killa Hill Niggas, cream in my dream
Cookin' up a scheme for all them big bank figures
The world is yours, but it can be mine and his
Bust you out the frame, I don't give a fuck who it is
Number one mission, opposition
Get thrown sent home in dead position
In the casket, best wishes
At the bottom of the lake, sleeping with the fishes
Full out search for the body
Of the MCs who be coming to disrupt the party
No wins, no ends, no way that I'm ever gonna let you come back again
Check my dramatics, brains get splattered, dreams shattered
Sabas get blasted for words he packaged
Peep the sequence, crab adolescents, on his defense
Power U niggas talking fast like Puerto Ricans
What you seeking son, I catch cream like Dominicans
Last Mohican, lyrics I'm speaking, wild as Indians
Tomahawk-Shaolin slang, the violent talk
Upstate New York, where chumps get extorted for Newports
What you thought?
Y ya está dicho
Todos los que no les guste mi rebote van a morir
Yo le voy a meter una bala a la cabeza a cualquier maricón
Que no me persiga a mí a la "singadapuerta"
Oye, ¡hijo de puta!
¡Quiero quemarte la cara!
Words drop in chant, the cheeky eyed slant
I'm taking these cannabis plants, yo for grant
Exotic, narcotic, tunes slam soon
From a dune in the desert, mega-Babylon pleasure
Coming out the domepiece, smell my aroma
Warrior nomad put you in a coma
Comma, llama, smash crashin' your armour
Drama, I'm a stealth aircraft bomber
Here is where I dwell at the gates of hell
It ain't where you're from it's where you're in the mentals
And if not yo, credentials are essential
I see reality, few things surrounding me
Free like a spirit, precise strikes the lyric
Not fronting or bragging, hundred percent red dragon
Pine fragranced lyrics, the rhymes you can't imagine
The globe-trotter, call me Meadowlark Lemon
Five part criminal, two part felon
Está dicho
Aquí, la revolución
No se va a ver por televisión
Todos los maricones del norte
Que los voy a matar yo
Va a ser aquí en nuestro país
Y todos los "singao masones" que están chingando el mundo
También van a ver la muerte
De ellos mismos, en las manos de ellos
Un día, va a ser sangre, mucha sangre
La peste de los cuerpos muertos, van a oír
Que se va a oler hasta los Estados Unidos, estos cabrones
Que con la democracia, que nos 'tan chingando en el culo
Todos son unos mismos cabrones