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| name : | DanceD |
| subject : | [Cypress Hill]Throw Your Hands in the Air |
| home : | http://endforand.net/danced |
Intro: Sen Dog Yeah Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five Soul Assassins ÀÌ 95³â, ¿ì¸® ½Ä´ë·Î ¸¶±¸ ÅͶ߷Á, Soul Assassins Cypress Hill joint. Cypress HillÀÇ ³ë·¡ Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up... Yo ÀÌÁ¦ ¸ðµÎµé ¼ÕÀ» À§·Î µé¾îºÁ... ...so get it on kid! ...±×·¯´Ï ÀÌÁ¦ ÇØºÁ! Verse One: Erick Sermon Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin forte ³» ·¦ÀÇ °Á¡À» ¼±º¸ÀÏ ¶§ Àû´çÇÑ ´Ü¾î´Â '½Å¼±ÇÔ' Quicker done than O.J., hey O.J.º¸´Ù ºü¸£°Ô ÇØÄ¡¿ö, ÇìÀÌ I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master ³» °ÍÀ» ¼±º¸¿©, °¡»çÀÇ ¸¶½ºÅÍ E Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya ³¯ Â¥Áõ³ª°Ô Çϸé, ÀǽÉÇÒ °Í ¾øÀÌ, ³Î ½÷¾ßÇÒÁö ¸ô¶ó Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time? ¹°¾îº¸ÀÚ, À̹ø ÇÑ ¹øÀº ³ª ¹ÙºüÁ®µµ µÉ±î? And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill ±×·± ´ÙÀ½ ±äÀåÀ» Ç®°í, Cypress Hill°ú ³î·¡ Huh, I go on with my bad self Huh, ³ ³ª»Û ÀڽŰú ÇÔ²² Çàµ¿ÇØ I'm the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker ³ª´Â 45±¸°æ ÃÑÀâÀÌ, ¸¶¸®È³ª Èí¿¬ÀÚ Believe me not, I'm wicked like three sixes ¹Ïµç ¸»µç, ³ 666ó·³ »ç¾ÇÇÑ Á¸Àç I'm doper than the Pete Rock remixes Pete Rock ¸®¹Í½ºº¸´Ù ¸ÚÁ® Never walk through the crowd sluggish Àý´ë õõÈ÷ ±ºÁß »çÀ̸¦ °ÈÁö ¾Ê¾Æ I'm hardcore to the Bone, I'm Thuggish Ruggish »Ä¼Ó±îÁö ÇϵåÄÚ¾î, °»½ºÅÍ ½ºÅ¸ÀÏÀÌÁö The Green-Eyed, Bandit, I be ERRRICK SERRRMON The Green-Eyed, Bandit, ³»°¡ ERRRICK SERRRMON I gets real determined Á¦´ë·Î °á½ÉÇØ And one for the treble, and two for the bass ù¹øÂ°´Â Æ®·¹ºí, µÎ¹øÂ°´Â º£À̽º I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace ÀÌ °¡»çÀÇ Ã¶Å𸦠°¡Áö°í ´Ï ¾ó±¼¿¡ µéÀÌ´ë And if you don't know, y'all better recognize ³Ê³×µé ¸ô¶ú´Ù¸é, ±ú´Ý´Â°Ô ÁÁÀ»°Å¾ß I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of weed ¼Óµµ¸¦ ¿Ã·Á ´Ù°¡°¡Áö, ¸¶¸®È³ª¸¦ µé°í Verse Two: B-Real Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hits ¾Æ Á¨Àå, ¶Ç´Ù¸¥ °»½ºÅÍ È÷Æ®±º Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate ³ðµéÀº ÃÖ°í¿Í ÇÔ²² ¹Ù»Ú°Ô ³î°í ½ÍÁö Fools get real, yo I'm representin the Hill ¹Ùº¸µé¾Æ Á¤½Å Â÷·Á, yo ³ HillÀ» ´ëÇ¥ÇØ With chips and clips and tons of blue steel µ·°ú źâ°ú ÆÄ¶õ ÃÑÀ» °¡Áö°í ¸»¾ß So who wants to be the first nigga to die? ±×·¡ ´©°¡ óÀ½À¸·Î Á×À»·¡? Then try and test this, buddha blessed Gemini ±×·³ À̸® ¿Í¼ ³¯ ½ÃÇèÇØºÁ, ¸¶¸®È³ª¿¡ ÃëÇÑ Gemini You get thrown sent home in a coffin ³Í ÁýÀ¸·Î º¸³»Á®, °ü¿¡ ³Ö¾îÁø ä·Î Punk stuff don't make it back, very often ¸ÓÀú¸®µéÀº ¹«»çÈ÷ µ¹¾Æ°¡Áö ¸øÇØ, ÀÚÁÖ ¸»¾ß I got Erick to take care of the Sermon ¼³±³ (Sermon)´Â Erick¿¡°Ô ¸Ã°åÁö Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin Àç´Â Àç·Î, ¸ÕÁö·Î, Ÿ¹ö¸° ½Ãü·Î Bustin open the doors to the temple »ç¿øÀ¸·Î °¡´Â ¹®À» °È¾îÂ÷¼ ¿¾î Takin you to the dark side of your mental ³Ê¸¦ Á¤½ÅÀÇ ¾îµÎ¿î ÆíÀ¸·Î µ¥·Á°¥°Ô Chorus: B-Real Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys ¸ðÅüÀÌ ÇüÁ¦µé¿¡°Ô µé·ÁÁà, °ñ¸ñ±æ¿¡¼ Throw your hands in the air Çϴ÷Π¼ÕÀ» µé¾î Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys ¸ðÅüÀÌ ÇüÁ¦µé¿¡°Ô µé·ÁÁà, °ñ¸ñ±æ¿¡¼ Throw your hands in the air Çϴ÷Π¼ÕÀ» µé¾î Chorus Verse Three: Redman I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy ³ º¹ÀâÇÑ ¶óÀÓÀ» ¹ñ¾î, ƯÀÌÇÑ ¸¶À½À» °¡Áø ¸¶¸®È³ª Áßµ¶ÀÚ finger up on the pen, be like "He the bomb, dicky!" ¼Õ°¡¶ôÀº ÆæÀ» Àâ¾Æ, »ç¶÷µéÀº ¸»ÇØ "±×³ðÀº ÆøÅºÀ̾ß, ¹Ùº¸¾ß!" These off-keys MC's hawk me, they won't get off me À½Ä¡ MCµéÀº ³ªÇÑÅ× Ä§À» ¹ñ¾î, ³ªÇÑÅ×¼ ¶³¾îÁöÁú ¾ÊÁö So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt* ³ ºÎµå·´°Ô ±×µéÀ» Á×ÀÌ°í ¿öŰÅäŰ·Î ¾²Áö Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch ³» º¼·ýÀ» ¿Ã¸®°í, º¸À̽º ÇÇÄ¡¸¦ Á¶Á¤ÇØ Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis Áø´Ü¸íÀ» ¿Ã·Á, È¥¼ö»óÅ is what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shit ±×°Ô ´Ï Å©·çÀÇ »óÅÂÁö, boom bip ȤÀº 2:2 (?) ½ÄÀ¸·Î ¸»¾ß Raw silk, cuz YOU DO IT TO MY MUSIC °ÅÄ¥°í ±ò²ûÇϰÔ, ³Í ³» À½¾ÇÀ» µéÀ¸¸ç ÇÏÀÝ¾Æ *Funk Doctor Spock* lock the hypest Funk Doctor SpockÀº ÃÖ°í¸¸À» Á¦°øÇÏ´Â individual, to put criminal in diapers »ç¶÷, ¹üÁËÀڵ鿡°Ô ±âÀú±Í¸¦ ä¿ö With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch ³» Ä£±¸ E¿Í Cypress, ³»°¡ ¾²´Â °¡»ç·Î ¸»¾ß You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis ³Í ¸Í¼¼ÇßÁö, ÀÌ°Ç ÇÙÀüÀï, ´Ï µÞ¸¶´ç¿¡ in your back yard, word to God, Def Squad! À§±â¾ß, ±×·¡ Á¤¸»·Î, Def Squad! With my nigga Keith in the place takin charge ³» Ä£±¸ Keith´Â À̰÷À» Ã¥ÀÓÁ® Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder ±×·¡, ³Í ´ÙÃÄ, ¸¶Ä¡ »ìÀÎÁ˸¦ ¼±°íÇÑ ¹è½É¿øÃ³·³ You're deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard of ³Í ±Í¸Ó°Å¸®, µé¾îº¸Áöµµ ¸øÇÑ °É ³»°¡ µé·ÁÁÖÀÝ¾Æ Chorus Verse Four: MC Eiht Steppin to the park in the Hill you can't hang ´Ï°¡ ³î ¼ö ¾ø´Â ¾ð´ö (Hill) À§ °ø¿øÀ¸·Î µé¾î°¡ The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang Compton¿¡¼ »ì¾Æ°¡´Â ¿À¸®Áö³Î º£À̺ñ °»½ºÅÍ Don't slip, the late night hype, is when I dip ½Ç¼öÇÏÁö¸¶, ´ÊÀº ¹ãÀÇ ³îÀÌ, ³»°¡ µé¾î°¡ Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip ¿Ü·Î¿î źâ¿¡¼± Boo-yaaÇÏ´Â ¼Ò¸®°¡ ³ªÁö Can't feel me, if I was crack you'd try to steal me ³¯ ¸ø ´À²¸, ³»°¡ ÄÚÄ«ÀÎÀ̾úÀ¸¸é ³Í ³¯ ÈÉÄ¡·Á µé¾úÀ»°É Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me ³Ê¿Í ´Ï ±Í¿©¿î Å©·ç°¡ ³¯ Á×ÀÌ°í ½Í´Ù¸ç Keep your hands on your hood, you get got ¼ÕÀ» Èĵå À§¿¡ ¿Ã·Á, ³Í ³¡ÀåÀÌ¾ß The Green-Eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, & the Funk Doctor Spock You wish you could hang, like I hang ³Í ³ªÃ³·³ °°ÀÌ ³î°í ½Í°ÚÁö Dwells in the C-P-T, the hood thing C-P-T¿¡¼ »ì¾Æ°¡Áö, °ÔÅä ½ºÅ¸ÀÏ G, the trigga finger, I'ma get you °»½ºÅÍ, °ËÁö¼Õ°¡¶ô, ³Î Àâ°Ú¾î Hit you, the Tech 9, I'ma split you ³Î ½÷, Tech 9, ³Î Âɰ³¹ö·Á Ain't no poppin, no stoppin ¸ØÃßÁö ¾Ê¾Æ, ¸ØÃßÁö ¾Ê¾Æ Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block °±ï°±ï, °±ï ´Ï°¡ ÀÖ´Â °Å¸®·Î ã¾Æ°¡ Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this Çϴ÷Π¼ÕÀ» ¿Ã·Á, ÀÌ°Ç º£³¢Áö¸¶ I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress ¹æ¾Æ¼è¸¦ ´ç°Ü, À̺Á Á¦¹ß, E°¡ Cypress¿Í ÇÔ²² ÇÏÀÝ¾Æ Chorus Chorus Outro: Sen Dog Aight, for everybody ÁÁ¾Ò¾î, ¸ðµÎ¸¦ À§ÇØ All our peeps out on the corners ¸ðµç ¸ðÅüÀÌÀÇ Ä£±¸µé All the alleyways ¸ðµç °ñ¸ñÀ» À§ÇØ For all our decesed ¿ì¸® Á×Àº Ä£±¸µé Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets °¤Çô¹ö¸° Ä£±¸µé, °Å¸® À§ÀÇ ÇüÁ¦µéÀ» À§ÇØ Nineteen ninety-five 1995³â Soul Assassins in your mind ´Ï ¸¶À½ ¼Ó¿¡ µé¾î°£ Soul Assassins |
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