It Ain't Nothin' Songtext
von Cypress Hill

In 1991, an artist in Compton picked up Cypress Hill′s debut album
What he heard blew him away
A futuristic funk
Mixed with the die-hard dedication
To a certain earth
This is the story of Cypress Hill

I used to carry a Glock on the waist line
Man, I don't waste time
I′m strong on the bass line
You'll never taste mine
See me on the screen, fuckers beggin' for face time
Get your own tape, but don′t bother to chase mine
I got a block, man, we havin′ a great time
You couldn't fill the shoes any time that I laced mine
Light up the stage for the homies we make shine
Sick the dogs on you get more by the K-9


Homies on the yard never walk in the main line
The manes find that they can never be in the game
I′m lettin' off rounds, hittin′ blunts at the same time
Pick crews homie, you a neon to save time
Bitches like you always spittin' the same rhymes
We put you all to shame
You never went through the same grind
Put you in the bind from the minute you came by
So stay in your lane and get wet by the rain

You wanna step up, get your ass touched
You wanna rap, son? Get your ass buff
Try to test us, you gonna get smashed up
You wanna run with the dogs?
Get your cash up

Get it
You gotta get your straps up
Get it
You gotta get your stash up
Get it
You gotta get amped up
You wanna run with the dogs?
Get your cash up


I′m right here on the block
When it's time to ride out, you know what I'm all about
Hundred Harley bikes on site when it goes down
Me and my homies, we always holdin′ the fort down
Come up in our town and your pissin′ a fourth now
Got four ounces and three bottles of Jack
Two-fifth's in the back and everyone I′m with's strapped
Whatever happened to chin checkin′ and wreckin' fools
Try disrespecting me my Smith & Wesson is endin′ you

And I ain't changed since back in the day
Get your shit split quick if you get in my face
You wanna run with the dog
Better stay in your place
'Cause your little ass name, don′t hold no weight
And your little ass safe couldn′t hold my cake
Get your access denied down the road I take
And let me tell you one more thing before I skate
If you a fake or a snake, I'ma send you to your grave

You wanna step up, get your ass touched
You wanna rap, son? Get your ass buff
Try to test us, you gonna get smashed up
You wanna run with the dogs?
Get your cash up

Get it
You gotta get your straps up
Get it
You gotta get your stash up
Get it
You gotta get amped up
You wanna run with the dogs?
Get your cash up

Stacked up, stacked up, stacked
Stacked up, stacked up, stacked
Stacked up, stacked up, stacked
Stacked up, and you bound to get hurt

I′m a First Staff OG from outta the gutter
With a fucked up demeanor for you punk motherfuckers
Get played like sucking dicks who try to start ruckas
I'm a real gun busta, so don′t ever try to rush us
Can't nobody touch us that don′t leave on crutches
Or worse, get a ride in a Hearse with their bodies covered
It's gonna be a cold summer
As soon as the hilt drops
All bullshit will stop

A couple scums in the street
We don't care what you bustas think
It might sink in sometime, but I won′t blink
We go against everything
Smoke all the green
Got the flow wrong, swing, it ain′t nothing to me
We put it down anywhere like it's something to see
So all you bitches goin rogue with your haters degree
And when you wanna get loud son I′m ready to work
Punks act up and you bound to get hurt

You wanna step up, get your ass touched
You wanna rap, son? Get your ass buff
Try to test us, you gonna get smashed up
You wanna run with the dogs?
Get your cash up

Get it
You gotta get your straps up
Get it
You gotta get your stash up
Get it
You gotta get amped up
You wanna run with the dogs?
Get your cash up