SupportSupport
Strictly Hip Hop: The Best of Cypress Hill
Disc 1
01. How I Could Just Kill a Man
02. I Ain't Goin' Out Like That
03. Hand on the Pump
04. Throw Your Set in the Air (club remix)
05. Strictly Hip Hop
06. Hand on the Glock
07. Latin Lingo (Prince Paul mix)
08. Checkmate (Hang Em High remix)
09. When the Ship Goes Down (extended)
10. Lowrider
11. What U Want From Me
12. Another Victory
13. Trouble
14. Stoned Is the Way of the Walk
15. Break 'em off Some
16. Prelude to a Come Up
Disc 2
01. Insane in the Brain
02. Boom Biddy Bye Bye
03. Dr. Greenthumb (Fun Lovin' Criminals remix)
04. Hits From the Bong (T-Ray's mix)
05. I Wanna Get High
06. Illusions
07. Latin Lingo
08. The Phuncky Feel One
09. Lick a Shot
10. Cock the Hammer
11. (Goin' All Out) Nothin' to Lose
12. Busted in the Hood
13. Stank Ass Hoe
14. Light Another
15. Roll It Up Again
16. Can't Get the Best of Me
Geeyeah, Soul Assassins two times, stick 'em
Geeyeah, Cypress Hill three times, come on
Geeyeah

Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin'
Cross the seven seas eased, clockin' much conversation
Penetration, you know we gets busy, no hesitation
Greenery, hand-picked, from my own plantation
Feels the heat, under the sombrero
To any amigo that's tryin' to, stop the dineros
Chills with, senoritas, like Charro
Get drunk off tequila lay low till tomorrow

Follow, my flow, get the cash and go
Call my homey B-Rizzy in Mexico City
Loose lips sink ships, faker faces got guilt
Didn't mean to call you late, I need a hideout till
Cool, homey, I'll bring some fuckin' skunk
The homey smuggle me across lines in a trunk
Just like a bird I'm free in a land
With no fuckin' extradition treaty, I'm out, geyeah

Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
With the crew from off the Hill

B-Really killin' the Phillie now can you feel me from the
Soul Assassin committee, the shitty niggaz never thrill me
You silly bitches never respect, neglect money
You funny or broke, think it's a joke, your nose is runny
Got my main man, Mr. Rocho kickin' the vocals
From the Eastside, where it's loco sellin' the poco

From the two G's, breakin' the leaves of cheese, makin' the bacon
You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin'
Evading the pigs, raiding my crib, I'm mad lib
And I wanna live and I'm givin' the message droppin' the lesson
Flippin' shit, and I'm keepin' 'em guessin' they all stressin'
Hit the lullaby, no confession, we in session

Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
With the crew from off the Hill

We's beez the three amigos, skates with nickel plates
Under the seat and we goes east coast, west coast, anybody killer
Soul Assassins gets the cash and smash
Who spits the glocks like uno and dos?
Makin' your body disappear like a ghost
One time's tryin' to gaffle me, harassin' me
Tryin' to send me to the penitentiary

In the nighttime, niggaz are creepin' you fuckin' sleepin'
And the beat, just keeps on seepin' into the street
While you peakin' I'm meetin' and greetin' the people speakin'
And leadin' the motherfuckers who's seekin' to catch, ruckus
Meaning you suckers no luckers overdub us, nut hug us
You love us, you can't stop, these mad audio hustlers

Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God
Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God