Album: other songs

Guerrilas In The Mist

(Verse 1)

Come down and beware of the black fist,
The Guerrilas straight muthafuckin killas in the mist,
Take a shot (buck-buck) but you can't forge,
Never thought you'd see south-central niggas in the forest.
Don't kick in the chorus just yet,
Cos we ain't made a mess yet,
Lench Mob produce the best yet.
Comin' real hard man,
Bumpin' in your car man,
Finally caught up with a devil named Tarzan.
Swingin' on the vines!
Suckin on a piece of swine!
Jiggaboo, come up from behind.
Hit him with a coconut,
Stab him in his gut,
Push him out the tree,
He falls right on his nuts.
And just like E-P-M-D,
I don't like a bitch named J to the A to the N-E.
Can't wait to meet her,
I'm gonna kill her,
Cos' that little muthafuckin cheetah can't hang with a guerrila!

(Chorus)

(Verse 2)
You tried to pay me off with a banana,
But Jay D is blacker than a city called Atlanta.
Give me some elbow room,
I need some elbow room,
So I can boom-shak-a-lak-a-boom!
That's the sound of the twenty-gauge,
Lock us up and Da Lench Mob can break out of any cage.
You never even hear of this,
I'm takin' care of this,
Lench Mob environmental terrorists!
Fuck great ape and Magilla,
I'm a killa,
Magilla gorilla ain't a killa.
White boys like Godzilla,
But my super nigga named King Kong,
Played his ass like ping pong,
So muthafuckers get they ding dong!
Or the bozack,
What's that dick and nut sack.
Get your butts back from the black fist,
Cap peelers, the Guerrilas in the Mist!

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)

Va-Voom, here's comes a nigga from the dark side,
Talkin' bout a brand new apartheid,
South central straight ghetto native,
Got to show these devil muthafuckers what I'm made of.
Yes, never smoke the cess,
Only hit the bottom with my feet on my chest.
I'm layin in the cut,
I'm layin in the cut,
I'm layin in the cut,
Bout to shoot me a mutt (with what?)
With the boom ping-ping,
Listen to the ill shit that i bring bring.
Nappy headed nigga,
Comin' out the mist, the smog, the fog,
Ice Cube is ma muthafuckin dog!
Drinkin mutt, smokin pumps,
The Guerrilas, rollin' from deep in the cut,
Short Dogg got the muthafuckin pump,
And it's true, T-Bone got the twenty-two.
That's how it's done yo,
So, you better run yo, run yo, run yo ass out the jungle,
Cos' hear a gun go and we don't miss,
Da Lench Mob, the Guerrilas in the Mist!