|
Cypress Hill - (Goin' All Out) Nothin' to Lose lyrics
[B-Real] I got nothin to lose, I'm goin all out The deuce never stop, I refuse to play by the rules Uptight, when you steppin into the night, right Pigs comin up and shinin the bright light Nothin better to do, than fuck with the pride when you hide behind your badge, your gun and ride Billy club show me no love, think you above all the fuss and the locs is rushin in too close Let me lay it on the table, forget stable Freak niggaz, comin to slay to the label You got nothin to lose, come on choose Stay away from niggaz that bring down your crew Whatever it takes, you make or break yourself with the wealth or the chance to stay in good health Sword blade swingin you back off away and the track off the real, straight off the Hill What the deal motherfucker? Chorus: B-Real, Sen Dog I got nothin to lose (I'm goin all out) Nothin to lose (You gonna fall out) Time run out (I'm goin all out) Nothin to lose (I'm goin all out) Lightin the fuse to the bomb (better run out) Nothin to lose (I'm goin all out) Nothin to lose (You gonna fall out) Time run out (I'm goin all out) Nothin to lose (I'm goin all out) Lightin the fuse to the bomb (better run out) [Sen Dog] I'm goin all out, showin y'all what I'm about Gettin in your mental, knockin niggaz out Takin this pencil, across the brain Ain't stoppin there til the rhymes all drained all out my system, take em, and then I twist em Put em out one day and see, who wanna diss em As you fold I'll sting ya, run up and you bitch up Y'all get the picture, just call Mr. Excitement Comin with the thunder and lightning Shit is quite frightening how niggaz keep biting So I keep the writing, down for the fighting Cold with the flows, they both quite exciting And let me take space up, heat your face up I'm goin all out, before the raise up Chorus Come on, come on [B-Real] I'm goin all out, nothin to lose, you better roll out Sold out, niggaz be livin in times run out In the present smell the prescence of what you stressin You get sent a lesson ain't missin the point blessin Expression, feelin the tension over the session The question, fillin your body with intention Don't mention the profession, keep adressin The real motherfuckers in the crowd pay attention I'm goin the fuck out, Smith and Wesson You better stall me out, no extension Only the strong will ever be settin the pace When you look up I'm gone and never left a trace No worries, set you with flurries and no juries Eight million stories in the city of furies Don't get the twist, you listen or get the fist I got nothin to lose so I gat fools with this Chorus [Sen Dog] Oh yeah, Cypress Hill massive once again Comin to your record shop Check this out, we ain't takin no prisoners We choppin heads off And you steppin at me, you better be goin all out baby This is war baby, from now until the new m-m-mm-mm-millelnium. |
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 All the Way by Calloway |
 Back to Black by Amy Winehouse |
 Waiting for the Punchline by Extreme |
 Ray Ray by Raphael Saadiq |
 Our Love to Admire by Interpol |
