[CLEF:]
|
Look into the rhyme
|
Rum to the ripple
|
Sing boo,
|
But at times I come in triple.
|
Blaow, blaow put the heater to your head
|
Now your dead.
|
Wyclef don't give a *beep* if your dead.
|
Raaaaah, raaaah
|
Let me attack just like the black cat
|
You in the wrong neighborhood, check the map.
|
Hooo, you've got to go for backup
|
To do what you gotta do.
|
So you'll be back with France CU
|
Traitor in your crew is mafo heat
|
Put the poison in your tea
|
and kill the toad, But I'll be back with the centipede
|
I'm on some new technique, drunken bamboo
|
Awoo hoo a hoo, I'm taking all crews what.
|
Competition, stimulation for the rap man
|
Losers check your tooters
|
While I'm suckin' on your girls h******.
|
Don't play macho, while you got the gun
|
Cause if you got to reload...
|
|
[CLEF:]
|
Wyclef the multi-talented
|
Average heads can't handle it
|
I'll bring it to you live
|
Only if you want it.
|
Me and my guitar go back like the days of the RMC's
|
(C'mon check out my melody)
|
The W-Y-C-L-E-F, Wyclef
|
Through any contest
|
I'm victorious
|
Still keep it real, if you will and manifest
|
Through your skills, not by how many shells you peel.
|
|
[PRAZ:]
|
I'm a bring down the ruckus
|
Play the nutcracker
|
Rough-neck rednecks make me no bother
|
Time after time, ask Cyndi Lauper,
|
Boss, you don't want to f**k with my partners
|
Motion, commotion, what's your proposal
|
Uphold two-fold, the crew is disposal
|
Like utensil, false idental,
|
I autograph my lyrics with a number 2 pencil
|
|
[LAURYN:]
|
I'm the L, Won't you pull it
|
Straight to the head
|
With the speed of a bullet
|
Cuttin' jokers off at the meeky-freeky gullet
|
Lyrical sedative, keep niggas medative
|
Head rushers I give to creative kids and fiends
|
Dreams of euphoria,
|
Aurora,
|
To another galaxy
|
Phallic-sy
|
Be this microphone, but get lifted
|
Lyrically I'm gifted
|
Burn on in without the roach clip (it)
|
Henders, mind-bender
|
Pleasure sender,
|
So frequently your nerve endings belong to me
|
Wrongfully you put me down not receiving the full capacity of my smoke
|
Wack niggas choke
|
From the fumes that I emote,
|
Or emit s***
|
See even I feel the mahogany L
|
Natural hallucinogen
|
Turning boys to men again
|
With estrogen dreams
|
Release blues, yellows and greens
|
From Brownsville to Queens
|
|
[DIAMOND-D:]
|
I creep like a theif, no doubt the man's swift
|
I'm more magnificent than Lee Van Cliff
|
You stand stiff and got the nerve to let your man riff
|
(We know where to run)
|
And start flakin' like dandruff.
|
C'mon son my steelo's tight
|
Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic
|
On the right, analytical conceptions
|
With precision and leave lyrical incisions.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Score
|
| Fugees |
