The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
Yeah, Cypress Hill three times, come on!
Yeah
Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin'
Cross the seven seas eased, clockin' much conversation
Penetration, you know we gets busy, no hesitation
Greenery, hand-picked, from my own plantation
Feels the heat, under the sombrero
To any amigo that's tryin to, stop the dineros
Chills with, senoritas, like charro
Get drunk off tequila lay low 'til tomorrow
Follow, my flow, get the cash and go
Call my homey B-Rizzy in Mexico City
Loose lips sink ships, faker faces got guilt
Didn't mean to call you late, I need a hideout 'til
Cool, homey, I'll bring some fuckin skunk
The homie smuggle me across lines in a trunk
Just like a bird I'm free, in a land
With no fuckin extradition treaty, I'm out, yeah
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"With the crew from off the Hill"
B-really killin' the Phillie now can you feel me from the
Soul Assassin committee, the shitty niggas never thrill me
You silly bitches never respect, neglect money
You funny or broke, think it's a joke, your nose is runny
Got my main man, Mr. Rocho kickin' the vocals
From the Eastside, where it's loco sellin' the poco
From the two G's, breakin' the leaves of cheese, makin the bacon
You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin
Evading the pigs, raiding my crib, I'm mad lib
And I wanna live and I'm givi'n the message droppin' the lesson
Flippin' shit, and I'm keepin' 'em guessin' they all stressin'
Hit the lullaby, no confession, we in session
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"With the crew from off the Hill"
We's beez the three amigos, skates with nickel plates
Under the seat and we goes East Coast, West Coast, anybody killer!
Soul Assassins gets the cash and smash
Who spits the Glocks like uno and dos?
Makin your body disappear like a ghost
One time's tryin to gaffle me, harassin' me
Tryin to send me to the penitentiary
In the nighttime, niggas are creepin' you fuckin sleepin'
And the beat, just keeps on seepin' into the street
While you peakin' I'm meetin' and greetin' the people speakin'
And leadin' the motherfuckers who's seekin' to catch, ruckus
Meaning you suckers no-luckers overdub us, nut hug us
You love us, you can't stop, these mad audio hustlers
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
Yeah
Infiltration be our daily operation for chasin'
Cross the seven seas eased, clockin' much conversation
Penetration, you know we gets busy, no hesitation
Greenery, hand-picked, from my own plantation
Feels the heat, under the sombrero
To any amigo that's tryin to, stop the dineros
Chills with, senoritas, like charro
Get drunk off tequila lay low 'til tomorrow
Follow, my flow, get the cash and go
Call my homey B-Rizzy in Mexico City
Loose lips sink ships, faker faces got guilt
Didn't mean to call you late, I need a hideout 'til
Cool, homey, I'll bring some fuckin skunk
The homie smuggle me across lines in a trunk
Just like a bird I'm free, in a land
With no fuckin extradition treaty, I'm out, yeah
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"With the crew from off the Hill"
B-really killin' the Phillie now can you feel me from the
Soul Assassin committee, the shitty niggas never thrill me
You silly bitches never respect, neglect money
You funny or broke, think it's a joke, your nose is runny
Got my main man, Mr. Rocho kickin' the vocals
From the Eastside, where it's loco sellin' the poco
From the two G's, breakin' the leaves of cheese, makin the bacon
You hear it sizzle got your hands ready for the takin
Evading the pigs, raiding my crib, I'm mad lib
And I wanna live and I'm givi'n the message droppin' the lesson
Flippin' shit, and I'm keepin' 'em guessin' they all stressin'
Hit the lullaby, no confession, we in session
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"With the crew from off the Hill"
We's beez the three amigos, skates with nickel plates
Under the seat and we goes East Coast, West Coast, anybody killer!
Soul Assassins gets the cash and smash
Who spits the Glocks like uno and dos?
Makin your body disappear like a ghost
One time's tryin to gaffle me, harassin' me
Tryin to send me to the penitentiary
In the nighttime, niggas are creepin' you fuckin sleepin'
And the beat, just keeps on seepin' into the street
While you peakin' I'm meetin' and greetin' the people speakin'
And leadin' the motherfuckers who's seekin' to catch, ruckus
Meaning you suckers no-luckers overdub us, nut hug us
You love us, you can't stop, these mad audio hustlers
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
"Shit is real on the motherfuckin' Hill God"
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