Cypress Hill F- Fat Joe Tequila Sunrise (uncensored Remix) Lyrics

Tequila Sunrise (uncensored Remix) Lyrics

Verse One: B-Real

 Sipping on tequila, with Sheila, no doubt I'm bringing her on

 Keeping her warm, leaving her heated like Tiger Balm

 In the hot sun city of Mexico, it's a pity

 My committee of witty niggas ain't with me to get gritty

 Rhymey as fuck on the track, snappin your head back

 Get the medic, cause a victim from my nigga Joey Crack

 Stomping the wax, niggas spittin on wax

 Giving the facts, beginners lack the methods of kicking wicked records

 A second of time switch, as styles piles up

 Mountains of various flows to rile up

 Now what you wanna do, nigga?  Tequila sunrise, nigga!

 I'm coming to town with my bigger boogie down figga

 It's the live shit, do you think you can survive it?

 When you decide it, leave it to me and Joe can provide it

 Cracking open the golden, holdin the bomb load

 While records are selling singles, my albums are getting sold

 Kicking the universal, never commercial techniques

 Bang in the clubs, bang in the jeeps, bang in the streets

 

 Chorus:

 Tequila Sunrise, bloodshot eyes

 Realize we're all born to die

 So get the money, nigga!

 (repeat 4x)

 

 Verse Two: Fat Joe

 Now I'm back for the new year, yeah, I volunteer

 Sources pioneer, millionaire status here

 I never had no fear sellin records

 I resurrected on my third, that's my word, it's a high selection

 And everybody know standing near me, 

 I'm dangerous like Shannon Greary

 Making the whole planet hear me

 You feel me?  I'm on my road to the riches

 With hoes and bitches fulfilling my goals and my wishes

 My flows is vicious, but showin' niggas since the early 90's

 Where Onyx at?  Niggas rockin' both easy 'round a grammy

 Don't mind me, I just call 'em how I see 'em

 Most these rappers is actors living off per diem

 Me? I'm on my own shit, nothing but gold hits

 Claimin the throne with my thuggish ruggish Bone clique

 On the phone-flip, talking to B

 He scooped me up in the six, we 'bout to hit overseas, what!

 

 Chorus

 

 Outro

 (each overlapping the other)

 

 B-Real:

 That's right, we hitting you with the L.A./Bronx connection

 Soul Assassins, Terror Squad family

 All up in your dome... ha!

 That's right, Soul Assassins style, Cypress Hill IV

 Knocking on your door for the ninety-eight

 That's right, eat the worm, motherfucker

 

 Fat Joe:

 Yeah... Terror Squad, Soul Assassins

 B-Real, Joey Crack... wha-wha-wha-what!

 Ugh! Puttin' it down, nigga!

 East coast, West coast

 And it's all the same, hahahaha... yeah, yeah