Lyrics
Smokin' MC's like a bowl of buddha
Burnin' in my bong now
You don't want to step to the rhythm of the funk degrees
You'll be a prisoner in the temple of thieves
Move it out, just move it on out, no doubt
We the number one crew
Kickin' mark ass niggas out the house
Puttin' up an argument, just don't bother
'Cause I'll whoop that ass just like I'm your father

Take heed to the master's call yes y'all
(Bring your cell-phone cause I fade them all)
Bullets fly
But they don't give a fuck about who dies
When you're in the middle of the fuckin'
No question, confrontation
Nowhere to run from the assassination
Let the rain come down
Whoops there goes another body on the ground
Watch out for G hound
It's the undisputed Cypress family
Kickin' up dust can you handle us fragilely
Growin' inside your mind like a tumor
Spreading in your head like a rumor
Venomous!
I'm from the underground, I take care of business
What the fuck is this?

Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out!

Suckas come in all shapes sizes and colors
Let me get the rope
And hang 'em 'till their fuckin' necks broke
Wind passage cut off, now you can't breathe
Let me give you what you need
A fat dose of the good weed
Like a puppet on a string
I'm the one controlling your ass
With the rough shit here to bring
My army grows like the buddha I sold ya
Every seed planted is another fuckin' soldier
Like the 'coup d'état'
Now ya are in the middle of the ambush
Stuck in your car
They can't find ya
At the bottom of the lake
Let me remind ya
You better be lookin' behind ya
It's too late, ain't no one standin' here
Hallucination, bees hummin' in your ear
Paranoia, dwelling to your dome piece
Increase, the level of the terror that move ceased

Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out!

Make a move, make a move, every posse make a move

Come on
Open up the doors for the high funk buddha
With the light point the dick can die
Rolling with the six shooter
Thirty-eight
Still shootin' real straight
Lookin' for the buster that I must eliminate
No surprise
As the inches demise
Let the four flow
As I look him right in the eyes
And rip these niggas in half
With the paragraph
They can't find a path
I like the aftermath
Still I reign the sect we remain
The big bad Cypress Hill, fuckin' niggas up again
When I aim I'm scopin' for your brain
Brother stay low, cross-hairs break you up the frame

Move 'em out! Move 'em on out! Move 'em out!

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze




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