No Rest for the Wicked Songtext
von Cypress Hill

Bitch-ass motherfucker
Peter Pie ass nigga, stand on your own two feet
Bitch, how the fuck you gon′ bite somebody else's dick, nigga?
Yours ain′t long enough to put in your mouth
What's up with that shit?" (Turn that shit up louder)
Muggs, make it rough


So many fools swingin' from my sack
Let′s talk about the one who had my back
Down in the west coast, so lemme kick it
To the motherfucker who calls himself "wicked"
No rest, no peace, no sleep
Doughboy rolling down the Hill ′cause it's all steep
Jackson, lemme figure out the name
Jack ′cause you be stealing other niggaz' game
But I′m the wrong nigga you wanna fuck with
On my dick so hard, now ya wanna suck it
Go on the head, gobble up the nuts
Get your lips ready and tear this motherfucker up
Talk about Eazy, correct yourself
Cube, better sit back and check yourself

"Yeah, nigga! My homie thought he had a homie in you
He let you listen to our motherfuckin' cut
And you turned around and put some old "Friday" shit out
What kind of shit is that?"


Hmmm, let′s talk about this
First solo album on the east coast dick
The east coast nigga's all showed ya love
Especially the one known as the King Sun
He tried to warn us nigga's about ya
But nobody would listen
Even began dissin′
Two albums later, you callin′ my crew
All because ya wanna be Cypress Cube
Shoulda known that you couldn't hang in the alley
Good boy went to school out in the valley
Fuck it, lemme make this understood
Speakin′ on Mama's little ′Boys in the Hood'
"No Vaseline"
Just a rope and a chair and gasoline (burning your ass up!)
Lench Mob is a friend of mine
But you talked about them niggaz from behind
"You know what a chazzer is, O′Shea?
A motherfucking pig that don't fly straight"
Where ya gonna run to? Where ya gonna hide?
Taadow, look at who's waitin′ outside

"I got a can of kick-ass wit′ your motherfuckin' name on it, Cube
You wann come collect it, or should I bring it to you?
′Cause all that bullshit you doin', ain′t shit fly about that shit
Motherfuckin' thing, and I ain′t bullshittin'
You beat them back then fuck off, and that's real
Kick rocks buster"

Natural born bullshitta
Lemme hit ya with a dose of reality when I get wit′ ya
Your homie came knockin′, he had to chain my suit
You put a pipe on your cover, even though you don't smoke Buddha
Let me take you down under on a plane
While everybody was going insane
Took a look at the Real one: afro gone
The next morning, you didn′t have yours on
How many ways will you bite my shit?
Would ya wet me or start throwing up a set?
Caution, when you enter the zone
Never used to bang 'til you hit the microphone
I got Cube melting in a tray
Pulling up his card and fucking up his "good day"
Unoriginal rap veteran
The nigga who say he don′t steal from his friends
Don't trust that nigga named O′Shea
Fuck 'im, and send him on his way!

"Cypress muthafuckin' Hill
The hardest mothafuckin′ posse there is out her nigga
So how d′you figure you was gonna step to this?
Yeah nigga, the big damn wham-bam Cypress Hill
Tibby tibby toe fool, all for your mothafuckin' dope
Nigga, you can′t hang with the hill, what the fuck you was thinkin' about?
You know you step to this, you gotta step correct
′Cause Cypress ain't havin′ that shit
Yeah nigga, we crack and fuck you next, who gives a fuck, a mad fuck?
So bring it on, if you wanna test it."