| Well it’s the alley cat, puffin on a hoody mack
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| Some say I’m a titere, but yo I ain’t all of that
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| Hit you wit a baseball bat if you try to ill though
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| Fuck around you get bucked on the hill bro
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| Mr. Tony Toca, rollin wit the joker
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| East L.A. to Bushwick, cosa nostra
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| Bring it to you bitch ass clicks like we supposed
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| Cypress Hill in full effect wit the mota
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| Ain’t nuthin changed but the date, so fuck wit jake
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| Expect me to cut the cake, it’s much to late
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| I’m takin it all, send you to the back of the line
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| Breakin you off, watchin you react to the rhyme
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| Me packin the nine, nah that’s a whole other game
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| Cuz if I’m forced to pull out, I’mma blow out ya brain
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| Yo, what we feel, never go wit the grain
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| It’s Tony Touch and B-Real still goin insane
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| Mi Vida Loca, get blast
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| Money moves, you snooze you loose
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| Punk nigga, you know the rules
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| We strike first, we hit hard, no regard
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| And move weight, international, state to state
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| Maginifico, here we go, me and Tony Toca
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| My name ain’t Ricky but I’m livin the vida loca
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| Serial rhyme killa, the paper spinner
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| Eatin the pussy sup, havin you for dinner
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| Like a fur tinner, makin you loose it over the years like a winner
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| I can’t abuse like a picketer, I send it a flow, control temper
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| We into the party, wit bounce and yo go get ya
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| All this other shit don’t really matter
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| I’d rather be open your grave, relivin my bladder
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| Ain’t nothin sadder, the Mad Hatter
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| Make a fine cheddar, keep climbin the ladder
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| You try follow after, I’m sorry to shatter your dream
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| Splatter your spleens, scatter your teams
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| Bad as it seems, niggas will follow the beam
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| Money cream, funny things, happen when you runnin things
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| Time to put a little pressure, but the addresser
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| You get no lesser, microphone finesser
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| Rhymes go like pressure, and listen never
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| Whether you gather to go, never become richer
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| Keep the punk nigga bitch up
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| Pain change like a woman ass switch up
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| You rhyme on the mic like you ate a dick up
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| Mouth full, blown talk, not to hiccup
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| Pick up your brain off the ground wit the vacuum cleaner
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| Life’s a bitch like Elliott Misdemeanor
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| I have you ass up wit the sharp cleaver, thru the receiver
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| Spot it like rhyme weaver, follow the leader
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| Shit’s off the fuckin meter, drum beater
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| Side reader, while we puffin the cold 'hebba
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| Yeah Mr. Cocotasso, hit you wit a baso
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| Say hello to my little friend, posa caso
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| Tato, now that’s all she wrote
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| Muthafuckas think I fell for the okie doke
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| But you can quote me loke, cuz the joke’s on you
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| Soul Assassins in the house, you better hold on to
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| Now you can watch these rap niggas just roll on through
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| Or you can get up and get involved it’s on you
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| U know the rules |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song U Know The Rules (MI Vida Loca), artist - Tony Touch. Album song The Piece Maker, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп