Ladies and gentlemen We would like to present to you A group that is simply just marvelous just marvelous Ladies and gentlemen Cypress Hill [B Real] 16 men on a dead man's list [SenDog] Yo ho ho and a bag of indo! [B Real] 16 men till there's no one left [SenDog] Yo ho ho and a bag of indo! Verse One: B Real So many fuckin emcees claim supremacy On whose got hip hop locked it could never be One who is solo, runnin the whole game That's bullshit, like cops never sniffed cocaine But I'm taking on all comers, droppin bombers Reducin numbers, makin it hot like the summer This, one emcee he couldn't deal with the skill Like Jack did Jill, I rolled his ass down the Hill Beaten broken and coughin and chokin on the rhyme Like a hooker, suckin a dick for the first time His, rhyme was hollow with no flow to follow Bust a nut, all in your mouth, and made him swollow I take 16 emcees, lock em in a room Make em feel the contact, eatin the mushrooms Playin with your mind, makin you feel the Force Had to cancel out, two punk niggaz up in The Source Tried to get XXL, they still fell Bitches go tell your troubles to Montel [B-Real] 16 men now there's 13 left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo! [B-Real] 16 men now there's 13 left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo! Verse Two: B-Real I'm trippin on the people controllin the airwaves Got it goin on, you know it all, but God save Your ass for clashin with the Soul Assassin That's like Mike fuckin with Poppa Joe Jackson Ass-whoop all over the place, you can't hide behind The physical, better run to the spiritual Ass-whoop critical, or you can get it From the lyrical, bitch-made niggaz are invisible Dysfunctional, hypocritical, smile in your face The fuckin cynical shit brains As I sit back and say, TALLY-HO! One of these days your punk ass gonna go Guess you had a key to figure the fuckin flow But you're locked out, and the bomb's about to blow [B-Real] 16 men let me see who's next [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo! [B-Real] 16 men till there's no one left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo! Verse Three: B-Real Twelve punks to go, who's next on the list Matter of fact I got one in my head to fix There was one particular fool in the circle who fell off Greed overcame the nigga who at all costs Changed up to gain it all, but shared none Who made him all the money to overcome? Niggaz up on the Hill, in the lab He was rollin big balla style, high profile Oh child, make me wanna act juvenile All smiles, right in my face, but wait a minute now Welcome to the 360, degrees Pay a fee when you fuckin your people over the cheese No soul, no conscience, no loyalty To the niggaz who got him treated, like royalty Aiyyo time's up, you're gonna end up seein visions Of everybody, you fucked over, you're Scared Sober [B-Real] 16 men till there's no one left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho them niggaz has gotta go [B-Real] 16 men till there's no one left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho them niggaz has gotta go Verse Four: B-Real Fuck the hater with the symbol and no soul And that bitch nigga who stole my car stereo Trick Deez, gets no love, she gets nuts Like Ass Miller, and that fuckin ex-dealer Can't forget the nigga who was down with the Hill-a And that punk who tried to dip into the squealer You get bucked like C. Tucker and Will Bennett Let me step, over the hump, and represent it You go down like Jerry, and get smacked Like Trick Leo, now here's your fuckin eulogy-o! [B-Real] That was 16 men now there's no one left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo [B-Real] 16 men now there's no one left [SenDog] Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo
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