16 Men Till There's No Men Left

Ladies and gentlemen

We would like to present to you

A group that is simply just marvelous, just marvelous

Ladies and gentlemen, Cypress, Hill

16 men on a dead man's list

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo!

16 men till there's no one left

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo!

So many fucking emcees claim supremacy

On whose got hip-hop locked, it could never be

One who is solo, running the whole game

That's bullshit, like cops never sniffed cocaine

But I'm taking on all comers, dropping bombers

Reducing numbers, making it hot like the summer

This, one emcee he couldn't deal with the skill

Like Jack did Jill, I rolled his ass down the Hill

Beaten broken and coughing and choking on the rhyme

Like a hooker, sucking a dick for the first time

His, rhyme was hollow with no flow to follow

Bust a nut, all in your mouth, and made him swallow

I take 16 emcees, lock em in a room

Make em feel the contact, eating the mushrooms

Playing with your mind, making you feel the Force

Had to cancel out, two punk niggas up in The Source

Tried to get XXL, they still fell

Bitches go tell your troubles to Montel

16 men now there's 13 left

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo!

16 men now there's 13 left

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo!

I'm tripping on the people controlling the airwaves

Got it going on, you know it all, but God save

Your ass for clashing with the Soul Assassin

That's like Mike fucking with Poppa Joe Jackson

Ass-whoop all over the place, you can't hide behind

The physical, better run to the spiritual

Ass-whoop critical, or you can get it

From the lyrical, bitch-made niggas are invisible

Dysfunctional, hypocritical, smile in your face

The fucking cynical shit brains

As I sit back and say, tally-ho!

One of these days your punk ass gonna go

Guess you had a key to figure the fucking flow

But you're locked out, and the bomb's about to blow

16 men let me see who's next

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo!

16 men till there's no one left

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo!

Twelve punks to go, who's next on the list

Matter of fact I got one in my head to fix

There was one particular fool in the circle who fell off

Greed overcame the nigga who at all costs

Changed up to gain it all, but shared none

Who made him all the money to overcome?

Niggas up on the Hill, in the lab

He was rolling big balla style, high profile

Oh child, make me want to act juvenile

All smiles, right in my face, but wait a minute now

Welcome to the 360, degrees

Pay a fee when you fucking your people over the cheese

No soul, no conscience, no loyalty

To the niggas who got him treated, like royalty

Hey yo time's up, you're gonna end up seeing visions

Of everybody, you fucked over, you're Scared Sober

16 men till there's no one left

Yo-ho-ho them niggas has gotta go

16 men till there's no one left

Yo-ho-ho them niggas has gotta go

Fuck the hater with the symbol and no soul

And that bitch nigga who stole my car stereo

Trick Deez, gets no love, she gets nuts

Like Ass Miller, and that fucking ex-dealer

Can't forget the nigga who was down with the Hill-a

And that punk who tried to dip into the squealer

You get bucked like C. Tucker and Will Bennett

Let me step, over the hump, and represent it

You go down like Jerry, and get smacked

Like Trick Leo, now here's your fucking eulogy-o!

That was 16 men now there's no one left

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo

16 men now there's no one left

Yo-ho-ho and a bag of indo