Lowrider - Cypress Hill

Low-ri-der, low-ri-der

Low-ri-der, low-ri-der

Aww, comin' through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby

Got that crunk, for yo' trunk, goin' gangsta crazy

We some real life hustlers, playin' games in the street

We got that low-ri-der, scrapin' dippin' on three (low-ri-der)

So pop your collar, give a holla, throw yo' dubs in the air

We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair

Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der)

Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin' freaky tonight

Now when people are done, bumpin' they head to this

You wonder why you wanted anything instead of this

We been makin' you bounce, for many years already

Rock steady and cut, many niggas to confetti

But I just want to blaze it up;

whether it’s the mic or a spliff

Yes my gift is to amaze you all

Thought I couldn’t come for ten my friend, but guess what?

I slay niggas and still savin' my best nut (low-ri-der)

But you better cover your eyes, cause you never know when

I spit it out and start some flowin'

I drop rhymes that grow like trees you’re smokin'

Ear drums feel like lungs, your brain’s chokin'

Just let it soak in, seep in, creep in

I’m keepin', all you motherfuckers in the deep end (low-ri-der)

You wanna trip?

Then I got luggage

I stuff you in and send you off, cause you ain’t rugged

Aww, comin' through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby

Got that crunk, for yo' trunk, goin' gangsta crazy

We some real life hustlers, playin' games in the street (low-ri-der)

We got that low-ri-der, scrapin', dippin' on three

So pop yo' collar, give a holla, throw the dubs in the air (low-ri-der)

We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair

Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der)

Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin' freaky tonight

Cause, we’re Cypress Hill, come on and ride with us

Just get inside, we bouncin', dippin', chop it up real tough

Lean to the side, pimp yo' hat, tilt yo' seat on back

Don’t front on me, baby boy, and break bread with the sack (low-ri-der)

I be the vato with the fine hoodrat in the ranfla

Always roll deep on the streets like the mafia

Pleito, just might come back and haunt ya

Flossin' too much, no vato’s gonna want ya

Not right here homes, we’re past all of that

Makin' that feria, spittin' that raps

Ya me conoces, I’m down for my calle

Cypress Ave, y el puro desmadre (low-ri-der)

Ya tu sabes, we don’t play that shit

Any pendejo’s gettin' hit up quick

Wassup ese?

What hood you claim?

Now throw it up and down like it ain’t no thang (low-ri-der)

Hands in the air with the pinky rings

Soul Assassins, runnin' everything

To all you vatos, make sure you check this

In every barrio, I’m well respected (low-ri-der)

Aww, comin' through fo' real we Cypress Hill, ohh baby

Got that crunk, for yo' trunk, goin' gangsta crazy

We some real life hustlers, playin' games in the street (low-ri-der)

We got that low-ri-der, scrapin', dippin' on three

So pop yo' collar, give a holla, throw the dubs in the air (low-ri-der)

We tear the roof, off the mother, lady let down yo' hair

Playa do that thang, that make you feel alright (low-ri-der)

Smoke that tree, crack that brew, we gettin' freaky tonight

Low-ri-der, low-ri-der

Low-ri-der, low-ri-der

Low-ri-der, low-ri-der

Low-ri-der, low-ri-der