"T-Minus 10, 9, 8, 7, 6.. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.. zero!"
(Blast off!)

[B-Real]
Come inside, hello everybody, welcome
Think you better be ready for the battle when the shit goes down
Cause we warring
All you fuckin yellow comets runnin from the front line
If anybody wanna get away hey
I'll find your fuckin ass in due time
Run and seek shelter but you never will escape
Flippin over the gate, cause you can't wait
to get your fuckin ass away
But you're trapped, and there's no way out of this musrhroom cloud
But you never wanna realize that I'm planted
in your mind now
Cypress Hill compound, you could hear the sound
Let another motherfucker run up
and I'll put your ass down (down)
Then I'll peal from your cap the Cypress Hill star
Quick look around, you can't hide
You just might die right where you are

Chorus: B-Real

AUDIO X...We gonna your blow your head up (up)
Synthetic flows, they gonna make you get up
Give me any record and I'll flip it any style
Niggaz can't help it, cause they bumpin the shit loud

[Barron Ricks]
Aiyyo whasup kid, feel the rush, glad you kept in touch
With these niggaz who be puffin on the Dutch
Bustin guns, lay back in the cut
Can it be, it's just a dream when you're on your scene smokin the green
Cause ain't shit never what you think it seem
From the streets where life ain't cheap
Cypress Hill, Soul Assassins, while you askin, "Who dat rappin?"
We get all up inside your grill, with the skill
Shoot to kill when it's time for action
See you can't hide, from this homicide, that ain't no lie
Better kiss that black ass goodbye
when you try to play these wiseguys