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      Midget Mike

      10 months, 2 weeks ago

      The Hill Poem by MIDGET MIKE

      In the realm of smoke and rhymes, where legends rise,
      “No Rest For the Wicked” a journey in disguise.
      “Make A Move” is “Boom Biddy Bye Bye”
      “Strickly Hip Hop” Do You Wanna Get High
      From the “Prelude to a Come Up” to a “Stank Ass Hoe,”
      A poetical track, wit the Cypress Hill flow.

      Track one, the “Intro,” sets the vibe,
      A journey through the streets where shadows hide.
      “Another Victory,” a triumph proclaimed,
      “Red Light Visions”, where dreams are named.

      “Tequila Sunrise,” a western breeze,
      L.A landscape, under palm trees.
      “I Ain’t Goin’ Out Like That,” a rebel’s creed,
      “Temple Of Boom” spirit, in every lyrical deed.

      “I Wanna Get High,” the herbal quest,
      A joint of dreams, a laid-back jest.
      “Lick a Shot,” lyrical ammunition,
      DJ Muggz beats, a bold tradition.

      “Cock the Hammer,” this rhythm tight,
      In the record’s groove, a powerful delight.
      “Lock Down” a moment’s pause,
      Before “3 Lil’ Putos,” a rebel’s cause.

      “Legalize It ” joints in the smoky air,
      Sen Dogs anthem, a herbal affair.
      “Hits from the Bong,” a portal event,
      Jamming “Black Sunday” Baked getting bent

      “What Go Around Come Around, Kid,” a streetwise spin,
      In the city where the struggles begin.
      “A to the K,” a gunshot sound,
      “The Phuncky Feel One”, from the underground.

      “Hand on the Glock,” watch the tension rise,
      A tale of the streets, under red skies.
      “Break ‘Em Off Some,” a sonic quake,
      This that “Rise Up” B make no mistake.

      “As the Record Turns,” a narrative unfolds,
      We “Stoned Raiders” where the legends told.
      “Latin Lingo,” a cultural blend,
      “Till Death Do Us Part” without an end.

      “When the Sh– Goes Down,” a street’s heartbeat,
      “Insane in the brain”, where our stories meet.
      “A to the K” echoes in the night,
      As the record spins shorty Spark up your pipe.

      All these “illusions” “How I Could Just Kill a Man,”
      “Elephants On Acid”, a hip-hop plan.
      Through smoke-filled tales and beats so grand,
      In the vinyl grooves, Cypress Hill stands.

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