Artista:
Fugees
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CLEF]Look into the rhymeRum to the rippleSing boo,But at times I come in triple.Blaow, blaow put the heater to your headNow your dead.Wyclef dont give a *beep* if your dead.Raaaaah, raaaahLet me attack just like the black catYou in the wrong neighborhood, check the map.Hooo, youve got to go for backupTo do what you gotta do.So youll be back with France CUTraitor in your crew is mafo heatPut the poison in your teaand kill the toad, But Ill be back with the centipedeIm on some new technique, drunken bambooAwoo hoo a hoo, Im taking all crews what.Competition, stimulation for the rap manLosers check your tootersWhile Im suckin on your girls hooters.Dont play macho, while you got the gunCause if you got to reload . . .[CLEF]Wyclef the multi-talentedAverage heads cant handle itIll bring it to you liveOnly if you want it.Me and my guitar go back like the days of the RMCs[Cmon check out my melody]The W-Y-C-L-E-F, WyclefThrough any contestIm victoriousStill keep it real, if you will and manifestThrough your skills, not by how many shells you peel.[PRAZ]Im a bring down the ruckusPlay the nutcrackerRough-neck rednecks make me no botherTime after time, ask Cyndi Lauper,Boss, you dont want to fuckk with my partnersMotion, commotion, whats your proposalUphold two-fold, the crew is disposalLike utensil, false idental,I autograph my lyrics with a number 2 pencil[LAURYN]Im the L, Wont you pull itStraight to the headWith the speed of a bulletCuttin jokers off at the meeky-freeky gulletLyrical sedative, keep niggas medativeHead rushers I give to creative kids and fiendsDreams of euphoria,Aurora,To another galaxyPhallic-syBe this microphone, but get liftedLyrically Im giftedBurn on in without the roach clip (it)Henders, mind-benderPleasure sender,So frequently your nerve endings belong to meWrongfully you put me down not receiving the full capacityof my smoke Wack niggas chokeFrom the fumes that I emote,Or emit shitSee even I feel the mahogany LNatural hallucinogenTurning boys to men againWith estrogen dreamsRelease blues, yellows and greensFrom Brownsville to Queens[DIAMOND-D]I creep like a theif, no doubt the mans swiftIm more magnificent than Lee Van CliffYou stand stiff and got the nerve to let your man riff[We know where to run]And start flakin like dandruff.Cmon son my steelos tightCause by far Im the best producer on the micOn the right, analytical conceptionsWith precision and leave lyrical incisions
