- published: 02 Oct 2015
- views: 1714308
Don't may refer to:
An ice cube is a small, roughly cube-shaped piece of ice (frozen water), conventionally used to cool beverages. Ice cubes are sometimes preferred over crushed ice because they melt more slowly; they are standard in mixed drinks that call for ice, in which case the drink is said to be "on the rocks."
American physician and humanitarian John Gorrie built a refrigerator in 1844 with the purpose of cooling air. His refrigerator produced ice which he hung from the ceiling in a basin. Gorrie can be considered the creator of ice cubes, but his aim was not to cool drinks: he used the ice to lower the ambient room temperature. During his time, a dominant idea was that bad air quality caused disease. Therefore, in order to help treat sickness, he pushed for the draining of swamps and the cooling of sickrooms.
Ice cubes are produced domestically by filling an ice cube tray with water and placing it in a freezer. Many freezers also come equipped with an icemaker, which produces ice cubes automatically and stores them in a bin from which they can be dispensed directly into a glass.
[Chorus]
Don't you trip this is the Soul Assassins
We come and blast them
We Eastside riders, this is how we doin'
[B-Real]
I spent hot days under the sun with all my loved ones
Soul Assassins family click you know the dark one
Eastside hellraisers, promoters pay us
To tear the roof of this shit, the mic blazers
Smoke alarms goin off, flowin off
The track, got em showin off, blowin off
All wack niggas choke in coal, eat a dick up
Pick up ya teeth out the street flossin holes
God knows weedniggas ya figured ya find ways
To escape the path of the serial rhyme-killa
Top billa, bankaccount filla
Spittin out more hot shit then Godzilla
The firebreatha, turn up your receiva
I attack the brain through the sound in ya speaka
No you can't fuck with this...
No you can't fuck with this...
Chorus
[B-Real]
You can't hold back the fury, I bury you in a hurry
Rhymestyle non-stop commin in a flurry
Don't worry, Imma settle this, get the fist
I sever your vocalcord with a flick of my wrist
You insist to be here, I make this clear
It's a game of cut-throat from ear to ear
Can you hang in the world when, where ya girlfriend
Hanging with my crew and steady serving
Come get your feeling hurt and come act hard
I got a ditch in my backyard for all you scared niggas
I make figures for all the soldiers to follow
Peace to my fam, bands who won't see the ...
I see you in the next one, I test one
When you flex son, respect one, the best one
Cypress Hill, Soul Assassins, blastin you on
In the race called life yo we passin you on
Chorus
Don't you trip this is the Soul Assassins
We come and blast them
We Eastside riders, this is how we doin'
Don't you trip this is the Soul Assassins