Blunted on Reality Album

Artist(s): Fugees (Tranzlator Crew)

Cover Art

Fugees (Tranzlator Crew) Blunted on Reality Cover Art

Tracklist

Introduction

length: 1:15
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel

The year
Two-thousand and seventeen master!
The man
Every two-thousand years a prophecy is prophesied
The mission
To carry out the word of the shepherd into this cold world
That just keeps folding
The group
I don't know,
Who is the group
Tran-translators!

[Lauryn Hill]
What can make a mighty man run?
Make him drop his pride and hide?
Too black, too strong, wrong
Spook sambo ***** jane
You ain't so bad, nor big
White sheets make you sad
Fraid you're gonna hang,
Now that's a black thing
Boy, you scared of me
Boo! see
Hide ***** hide, flee ***** flee run ***** run
If I got my hood, my cross, my tree my gun
My rope
And it's a long one

Nappy Heads

length: 4:29
producer: Brand X, Rashad Muhammad, Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
mixer: Kendal Stubbs and Rashad Muhammad
engineer: Ron London and Paul Higgins
arranger: Brand X, Wyclef Jean, Rashad Muhammad and Pras Michel
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
[Wyclef]
Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking
Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around the way.

[Wyclef]
Yo, hey, nappy head.

[Lauryn]
Yo, whats up?

[Wyclef]
What you got there?

[Lauryn]
I got some of that lyrical cheeba cheeba.

[Wyclef]
Word?

A cheeba cheeba, y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all.
A cheeba cheeba, y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all.

[Wyclef]
You want to battle swing? I bring commanding men, like I was king.
In all your dreams I write the horror flick of Stephen King.
Cling to false, also those papers say ock.
I got tired of the fat lady so I sing to my own opera.
Ba-lang-balang-balang-to-de-man-de-rock-'cause I love thee.
If you live by the sword, you will be die by the gun,
'Cause all guys tell lies, and more girls commits it.
I was ordered to code red, but now I'm chillin' with a few good men.
***assination on the kid from the capitol.
I never play the soap opera, but now I'm a general hospital.
Condition critical, spirit over who's the physical.
So if I die, catch me at the funeral.
I'll fly away, oh glory,
With a mic in my hand, to a land where only God knows me,
And the angels write raps on holy paper.
I said: I'm lookin for Jesus, he said: take the escalator
One flight up, is guaranteed you'll be there.
My sister'd be there, my mother'd be there.
So, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking
Saturday-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay.
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around de way.

[Lauryn Hill]
I don't puff blunts, so I always got my breath.
Never had to battle with a bullet proof vest.
They call me ****-weasel, but I still cave a chest.
I don't wear Jheri curls, 'cause I'm nah from the West.
No disrespect to the West, true indeed,
I rock it to the East, the East is the seed.
To see that them days back, yo sheepskins and hot tracks.
Peace to Mr. Magic, things are getting tragic.
Now we on some new stuff, I never feared the Ku Kluk.
My own clan is actin' up, I blame it on the Phillie blunt.
Whatcha gonna do, kids are acting oooohhhh.
Hill is gettin' fed up, yo, where's the coporate at?
A mister three-piece-suit.
Check the square roots, Girbauds and Timberland boots.
Nah, that's the serpents, and know them garment tips.
I got a head full of problems and a hand full of nappy roots.
I feel a Jones' comin' down, yo I

(I got the slang to make the chitty-bang-bang
A rid-dang-de-dang, the nappy head bang.)
No I, got the slang to make the chitty-bang-bang
A rid-dang-de-dang, the nappy heads bang.)

Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking
Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' 'round de way,
Nappy heads in the zone and we're not goin' home!

[Prazwell & Wyclef]
Hey, yo, a battle is a battle but a battle's not a battle.
If it's snake doesn't rattle,
'Cause my style's as old as a reptile.
As slick as a new Nile, as new as a new child.
So come follow me to the land of Abraham.
This land's your land, this land's my land.
The blacker the black man, the better the next man.
(Yo, some nappy heads need to check they necks for red.)

I feel injection,
Put the needle to your skin, feel reality's heroin.
You maintain to put a negro in pain, you used to diss me.
"Oh, you want to hang with old Eddie Kane?" (The Five Heartbeats.)
Ain't nuttin' wrong, snap your head to the song.
Word is bond, you get wrong, I'll have you sing like Louis Armstrong.
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world,
But what the hell was so wonderful 'bout cotton in the farm?
Mr. Slave Man!
The harder they come, the harder they fall, so come one, come all.
Don't stall or I'm a stick you like a voodoo doll.
Doors locked, stop drawer for the count, who drops.
You slept on a kid from the boondocks,
Out of Motorville land of the ill kill.
Bellsburg Viking, so you know I'm top ranking, Phil.
Some say who coming, like, like the yuma, but save the rumor,
'Cause I've been rockin' ever since eighty-two,
When I used to rock my Pumas

A cheeba cheeba y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all. [Repeat: x4]
Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking

Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around de way.
Nappy heads in the zone and we're not goin' home!

Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around de way.
Nappy heads in the zone and we're not goin' home!

I wear my sunglasses at night
To spy on my girlfriend, that's right.
They dancin', romancin', freakin', at night!
Yes, yes, yes, a yes, yes, y'all.

I wear my sunglasses at night
To spy on my girlfriend, that's right.
They dancin', romancin', freakin', at night!
Yes, yes, yes, a yes, yes, y'all.

Mona Lisa
Nappy heads in the zone and we not goin' home!

A cheeba cheeba y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all. [Repeat: x4]
And to the beat y'all, and to the beat y'all, come on everybody.

Blunted Interlude

length: 6:49
producer: Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel
co-producer: Khalis Bayyan
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
(Intro)
(*inhales, then coughs*)
Ay, n____ pass me the blunt
(Go get the f___ outta here, oh s___)
(*inhales and coughing continues*)
Ay, pass this over here man, so we can just cipher youknowI'msayin'?
(Cip, yo, this is for dolo son (*inhales*)
Yo, man, c'mon pass the blunt man (Yo champ, champ, champ)
Yo, pass the blunt man (hold it man)
Whassup man? (Yo, hold it up, aight, take the f___in' blunt)
Yeah, whassup? (d___) (*inhales continue*)
I ain't even get charged yet
(C'mon man, let's cip man about the good ol' days man youknowI'msayin'? (yeah)
See man, white man tryin' to keep this away from us man youknowI'msayin'? (Uh-hmm)
Cause they know when you grab this man
you just be ciphin' knowledge man, knowledge as we buildin' up man
That's why they want no brothers to be out here man, youknowI'msayin'?
That's why they try to make it illegal man (...you far, you far from reality...)
Yo, check this out man, this is, a natural herb man youknowI'msayin'?
It makes your body just and your mind just go to another...
(Yo, but hold - money you is talkin' too, much)
Yo, yo, yo man, yo we just ciphin' man (...talkin' that, pass the m_________in' blunt)
I know you Latin s___, burn the f___ out (I hate when m_________ers do that s___)...

(Wyclef Jean)
Y'all know there's a lot of emcees but just give my CHANCE ON THE MIC!!
Open the, open the, open the, open the, open the, open the
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!
Open the safe with no key, it's easier than battlin' me
Cause uh-uh, I'll make you walk like a doggy
Some say on and on, but they mean ON-ON!!
I got tired of that new style - BREAKDOWN!!
I have to take it back to the break of dawn
When Melle Mel was Melle Mel and Al Capone was Al Capone
Bootleg is sellin' now it's rap that's sellin' in the village
But I'm just privileged to makin' my home from my spirit
So when you hear me it's the man with the deeper thoughts
At night I can't sleep my brain keep movin' like a body on a horse
I don't stand, don't stand, don't wife me I construct on bricks
Some thoughts it wasn't until he said: "He sunk my battleship"
So hip-hip, load the clip, hip, I miss - d___!!
I pay my taxes so I won't mess with Sam
Ya hear the rhyme you stand still, some ask for refill
We move your thoughts so I can see if you for fake or real
Cause Buffalo Bill bit battle inside from my rap meal
And left me on a hill-hill, so when I battle no will
So mama should I kill a man like Cypress Hill, chill
I got no lawyer so I pleadin' my own appeal
How does it feel - when a monkey is your ill
in a J-A-I-L? I have no time to make bail
Saw someone to be macho like fritches that got the lyro
So they had it at bein' a heroes, where did their bodies go, only God knows
You got caught, between the fire and the hoses
You wanna battle? Bring your Moses
Forget what fun-what time Moses
and someone goin' down and it ain't Gastor Douglass
Cause the roughest with the guy, becomes a p____
So all the bad boy talk, come on cause I'm the nice dog, yeah hawk
Throw many fights in fought courts boss
Never lost, so toss a nickel and change your course
Say mama say mama say mama say what?

(Chorus: Wyclef Jean and Lauryn Hill)
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality

(Lauryn Hill)
Aiyyo, huh-huh, ho with the badder that run the (TENT!!)

Who walks really for lack of listenin' to the drum-set
You silly nimble bad as to my car don't put the bass
oh on the table test the super lantra
You got caught all that toe with twenty-thousand legs
I'm laughin' arrogantly as your nostril bleeds hehehehehe...
Relax and max and drink a Gin on the Tech
Well their gatin' for another pirate to lose his neck, check
I got a call from Captain Hook in so quick
We used to be partners 'fore the clip stole my rapper
I had to be right cause you fight like it was a b____
I had to change the rhythmic pattern and make sure it fit
So now when I go and see with she
I thought the pirates through a telescope
and bomb 'em like it's make-believe
Blow me my sword I out for my protection
Cause I might ship on landin' side and start an insurrection
A pirate had disguised himself as one of my crew
But I saw true and had to shake a him before he got through
Hey, hey guy the loot the booty, I formed like a ram
I gave an ultimatum and told him he could do time
But he argued and fought me, he tried to bust right
And so I took it upon myself to make the brother walk the plank

(Chorus: Wyclef Jean & Lauryn Hill)
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality

(Pras)
Fo'-to-the-fo'-to-the-fi-fe-come
I smell the blood of an Englishman run son
Ya see the man cannot understand
The hammer and the barrel hum
So when I get them someone will know where the hell I'm from
Cause I'm sprayin' emcees with my mack ten machine gun
The hand that rocks will be the hand of the gun b__
Rum-pum-pum-pum-pum is the drop of my snare drum
Freak-k-k-k-kin' is the beat of my tum-tum
Makin' emcees walk like a doggy, hah-hah, I'll make them walk like a doggy
It's like the blunt to the phillie, the ganja to the sessy
You can't write a rhyme without the roots men-mentality
Cause ain't no milli-vanilli but the kiddy with the skilly
to rhyme so dope I made up my own vocabulab-skilly
Missed it from a bomber-tacky lackin' all the b__
that get her to a to and fro, I guess they made me boy
So can I get the cheers, not the chant from cheers
But the chant from my peers that I know are really down with me (CHEERS!!)
Now that I mean those that been since the beginnin'
(cause some of y'all cut out when it started rainin')
Now check me at the movies I'm rollin' like Black Man
I didn't need Batman, he teamed up with the favourite - EH!!
Tell all your friend-friend, watch all your friend-friend
Cause some say are your friend before wanna dem bring you poison
So I roll by myself and that I carry my (BIT!!)
You wished you stayed around, you know my clip got the (LIP!!)
So empty your hooray, your hooray to your hip
And if your hip's a book you know you got to get off bricks man

(Chorus: Wyclef Jean & Lauryn Hill)
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality
Some thought we were blunted when we wrote this
Cause we were far, from reality

Recharge

length: 5:10
producer: Pras Michel, Wyclef Jean and Khalis Bayyan
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Khalis Bayyan, Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel
additional: Levi
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Khalis Bayyan, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
"And when you feeling down, recharge!"

[Wyclef]
Now and, forever's, them emperors, are nova
The loving, the hugging, will never be over

[Pras]
Back up back up boy, don't get me started
Still the MC, hit the target, you get bombarded yeah
Affect the minds, let the blind evaporate
Let me elaborate, oh no (it's too late)
Push the button, cause I'ma get ?
Pass me a SCUD missile, so I can bomb the land

[Wyclef]
Yo Pras (what?) Yo Pras (what?) Some start to wonder
Some see lightning, some hear thunder
Shades of a black man, maybe the black panther
Making MC's run when it come to rapping I'm the Darth Vader
I'm not regular, consider me irregular
From the regular rapper ones that lumber
But I come from a slum where many bum
Sometimes I cooled out, while my boys were in prison
I always told them that right, overrules wrong
Cause ever since a boy mama told me judgment they will come son
So I watch what I do, what I say, how I PLAY
And hope that I make it through the next day
Cause the streets are like a jungle, they got me say
Cause Tarzan's a black man
So I'm waiting for a break in the record company
So I could take you MC's, back to camp I mean
Cause with a flick of my wrist, I come rewind another rhyme
I got more rhymes than a church got wines
Ever since middle school, I used to, rule
The ? mule, people called my talent beautiful
Never lost a battle, they thought I was buck wild
?
They didn't know that a ReFugee could rock so well
So here's the resurrection, of Pras, Wyclef, and L

Check me or my team as I recharge your body [Repeat: x4]

[Pras]
Living to be given, chilling like Bob Dylan
Like Michael I'm Thrilling, I'm not dealing to be illing
Running a mask ?, like the task force
The cause is laws, the laws that broke your jaw
Now I'm, getting raw on a thing like a mean machine
(Why you running around with the same old thing?
You know what I mean, yeah)
I search and search, I start to faint
But never never never fall in entertain
Don't beam me up Scotty, I'm Audi like John Gotti
Driving in black Caddy

[Lauryn Hill]
Success for the next man is success for myself
Vanity's vanity yet I still wanted wealth
I know there's a true God, but it still makes me think
Of Yusef, now is the notty dread dead?
Believe in the Bible because it promise eternity
Six six six, that makes you, my adversary
So I, watch my back and hopin I don't get taxed
I used to, rip the rapper cause they said we'd been said wack
I know what the critics they say, keep it commercial
I used to freestyle, but everything now is rehearsal
I miss the old school, so tell me what will I do?
I guess I'll start a revolution with the Translator Crew, so

[Wyclef]
Check me or my team as I recharge your body [Repeat: x8]

Check it out all MC's I'm about to pull out my slingshot
Here it comes!

Me lick me one, me lick me one one
Me lick me one, me lick me one one
Me lick me one
Me come for them all
Me lick me one one one, lick bumba rum
Follow me follow me follow me follow me
Me lick me one, me lick me one one
Me lick me one, me lick me one one
Me lick me one
Me come for them all
Me lick me one one one, lick bumba rum
Follow me follow me follow me follow me
(Me lick me one one)

[Wyclef]
They label me (What?) the MC psycho
Prim' you up, but don't mistake me for Sunoco
Cuss to get loose, now you got the micro' Joe
Who talking about hope? Poquito dinero
Means I work hard, but got no money, and that ain't funny
Hey honey when you work for free see it's hard to get a lady baby
But they say good things come to those wait
So I wait, no ego trip, and on the mic I penetrate
Elevate as I battle for high stakes
Many gamble, I eat you like an animal
Cause he gambled for the dime that he didn't have
He woke up in a dream and found his body in a body bag
Wyclef pissed cause, oh what I really said is
Is I'm that funky, big up def in pig Latin man,
A lot of rappers try to out rap, but miss me yo
But I'm asking every teachers everything he know
There's always one trick, to make em slip
So let me predict in pure trick I'm sure the rap form will recharge

Me lick me one, me lick me one one
Me lick me one, me lick me one one
Me lick me one
Me come for them all
Me lick me one one one, lick bumba rum
Follow me follow me follow me follow me

Check them style out of Wy and Prazwell
Bad man fire M-16
Police man fire AK-47
Soldier man, them a fire ?
And them gun shoot for, woy!
Bad man fire M-16
Police man fire AK-47
Soldier man, them a fire ?
And them gun shoot for

Freestyle Interlude

length: 1:08
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel

Vocab

length: 5:02
producer: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
mixer: Wyclef Jean and Paul Higgins
engineer: Alvin Lewis
arranger: Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
Yo, this is the Fugees
Refugees
About to take you on a journey
Into the dimensions of the Booka basement
The basement, word

Hey yo, one two three! The crew is called Re-Fu-Ge-ee-es
An if you come fa tes the rap style
Stop the violence and just bring it on, wild

Hey yo I, feel kind of melancholy people think they really know me
I keep a wrap about me while I'm driving daddy's Audi
I pay the toll fighting for my own soul
Cause the bourgeois type of mental sucks like a flat comb
But I be baiting the rebel base to bass distort the EQ
The devil's wishing they could send me back to Mogadishu
Cause I've been wild since I was a juvenile
Afro-centric profile, back when righteous rap was your style
Now kids are whyling so I ask the bad black
Boogie bandit, what's the damage, gimme the estimate then
Pray tell me when's the revolution will begin?
I turn on my TV I check out Farrakhan on CNN see
I'm like the phantom that's flying like the bird do
And things you never heard plus I come from the suburbs
Word to God, I heard you're acting kind of hard
And you got your skin scarred when they was shooting on the boulevard

[Chorus: Lauryn Hill]
(You got the vocab) I got the vocab
(On the real got the vocab) You know we got the vocab
(All my peeps got the vocab) Yeah, we got the vocab

Hey yo Praz, grab the mic and show you got the gift of gab

[Prazwell]
Then cast off from here to Mexico
You see my four-five-six a-be my Celo
And when I rest my head is on a pillow
You see the skills I manifest is very tho-rough
And if you don't believe me ask Freres Ja-cques
Freres Jacques, Freres Jacques
A dorme vous? A dorme vous?
Watch out now! When I choose to speak
I'm forming the cipher fly East to the Five Percenter
Knowledge is born, to all beginners
Cast the first stone, if you feel you ain't a sinner,
Say o-you're father, who art in heaven
Forgive the foolish rapper for he not know how Fugee be stepping
Correct and, stopped and kept in, 'nough respect to the
DJ, that be selecting, the type of record

[Chorus]

Hey yo Clef grab the mic and show you got the gift of gab

[Wyclef]
Check it out, here we go
Back in Eighty-tree, no one wanted to be nappy!
I turn on my TV, it's a dreadlock for free!
Kill the gimmick
It's nonsense, it's no sense or value
A rapper, disaster, nobody ever told me that
"Roxanne, you don't got to work for money no more!" and
Back in the days I used to listen to cool G Rap
Way back when before guns became gats and
Run-D.M.C. used to ask Mary was she bugging?
I loved P.E., they kept me conscious of what I was saying
Afrika Bambaata, Poor Righteous Teacher
Got within myself so it made me a Five Percenter
Say La-Di-Da-Di, UHH! we like to party but
My jam was BDP, with My Philosophy
Say Grandmaster Flash, MC Melle Mel
Then LL Cool J came with Rock the Bells!
See I'm the one for the crew, like a Jew is a Jew
Like Apollo got the moon, like the men who got the blue
Like the Fu got the Manchu, Chaka got the Zulu
Hawaii got the Honolulu
I got the rap lieu, so skippedy-de-bop-bop you don't stop
You do the rock-rock from hip-hop through be-bop
From be-bop to bee-bee

[Chorus]

Hey yo peeps, grab the mic and show you got the gift of gab

[Chorus]

[Lauryn] Aiyyo, bros grab the mic and show you got the gift of gab

(DC got the vocab) Word, y'all got the vocab
(Virginia got the vocab) hey, I know y'all got the vocab
(Oakland got the vocab) Word, they got the vocab
Hey yo, sisters grab the mic and show you got the gift of gab

Special News Bulletin Interlude

length: 0:21
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Ron London and Paul Higgins
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Khalis Bayyan, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel

Boof Baf

length: 5:09
producer: Wyclef Jean, Khalis Bayyan and Pras Michel
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Pras Michel, Khalis Bayyan and Wyclef Jean
additional: Mad Spider
assistant mixer: Ron London
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Khalis Bayyan, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
[Wyclef Jean]
I'm Chill-Master-Nell of a thousand emcees
But how are you gonna tell the real I bust from these fo' knees
Cause he sees everyone with a deal with a record company
They go home, they write a rhyme, they think they ready to battle better
Some write forward, some write backward
I wait for them to get the cheeba-ganja then reverse yo
With a verse that's worse than the last one
Some say BOO! he's the po he used to diss Jamaicans
And Hatians cause you thought I was American
Hey Pras, remember that song they sang, yeah!
Go back to Jamaica, what's good is what's new
But now we move off with Uncle's with a trail-crate of cooler!

[Pras]
I'm from the island, the island I'm from is the strong island
Emcees must be right, when I syke from lack of freestylin'
Mind must be sharp until my holler girl, I get all in
Black stylin', ridin', Boof'll be trappin'
When they come to battle champ see the shoes flappin'
Huh, coolin' while I'm rappin'

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
(Boff Baf!) another sound of a guy
(Boff Baf!) never boy, duck punk, try
(Boff Baf!) another sound of a guy
(Boff Baf!) never boy, duck punk, try

[Wyclef Jean]
Said if you write with pencil you must write with (Pen!)
If you have a rooster you must have a (Hen!)
Five plus five you know that equals to (Ten!)
Then spit the yellow man, check it to groove-to-groove site

[Pras]
One, two, I throw a flow to catch it
Three, four, back she know before the track miss
I **** ya when style go, to wreck this static
(But yo sister, grab the mic and do damage!!)

[Lauryn Hill]
Hey yo I used to drive a hooptie, check me down swoopie
Rollin' with the Jones' but I different homozones
See life's got no value if I ain't got no statue
Hannibal heads, I be the kid from "Timbuktu"
One, two, zip me-me, check the mic I'm ready
Three, four, please the army "Oh God", with Uzi's
So what, converse man, the chicken or the hoodie
Get the hoodie came first then mans' then would be Nancy
To kill the Jesse James rough, step back, check your steps
I'll love your theory like the chi-chi-woo-woo-boogie-man
You say I'm balanced but you're Silence of the Lambs
And when I call your name I say Candyman, Candyman, Candyman
Cause I can, can, yes, I can, can

[Chorus]

[Wyclef Jean]
Well I'm on Fire (Fire), Fire (Fire), Fire (Fire)
So let me re-light your viacom
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!) [Repeat: x4]
All that movin' I call my nozzle you see I was an electronic
You listen to your lyrics in chime - your Panasonic
The ly-ly-ly-lyricaler, the di-di-di-digital
Pras take the mic man, you know you're really critical

[Pras]
Stall emcees-soft-put 'em up for-er-Death Row (yeah)
Rhyme and cultural, style and never old
Slashed the priest-fool, ooh, you're filth-swolled

[Wyclef Jean]
I say no to spliff but my friends still smoke ?Juano?
Coolin' it, coolin' it, coolin' it
Somebody chuck me-who the who'd you think?
Hold the mic, hold the mic, I shoot 'em
Down with my last one, last one, last one, last one and
(Boo-shoo-coo-coo!) Smoke!
I got my bullet-proof and now to send my bozack

[Chorus]

[Mad Spider]
Rich rap come from the brothers in the neigborhood
Who used to rap on a Polaroid, here comes Father Joe
Let me clock the block as I pull fo'-five
Boof Baf, I cut the block with gat-stops
I used to play hookie just to see how good an emcee was
He said I bust a battle, alright, I still took a gun
No cheeba, cheeba just a Libra on a last ride
I waited so long that I thought I died and came back alive
So hear the spirits, many fear, ?Sir New Stosser?
This the new thing under the Sun, when I come, I come
Bam-bam, alakazam, he grabbed the mic
Up the block they ran, I came back with the bag
Cause that's my momma man
I'm just patrollin', move off in the block
But the spot that I clock, you get shot if your numbers' about
So don't get caught in the fast lane, the fast lane
A just remain yourself and be the same
Cause many rapper-days, say nothin' for nothin'
So here's sut-um to take you from the am to the pm

[Pras]
Cause a imitator could never be greater than the creator
Whose the originator, step up infiltrator
See you in the alligator, back stabbin' traitor
Tape recorder, duplicator, roughly rhymin' with the head tranzlator, hah!
And leave the forty to be naughty in the fridgerator!

[Chorus: Repeats]

[Wyclef Jean]
Say gun-man (Boff Baf!) say tell me where you get your ? from (Boff Baf!)
You must of get it from the foreign land (Boff Baf!)
We want to shoot up the old a Babylon (Boff Baf!)
Pay the man to rhyme onto it
Say gun-man (Boff Baf!) say tell me where you get your ? from (Boff Baf!)
You must of get it from the foreign land (Boff Baf!)
You want to kill your own brother man (Boff Baf!), ay, ay, ay (Boff Baf!)

Temple

length: 4:03
producer: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
mixer: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
co-producer: Khalis Bayyan
additional programming: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
assistant mixer: Ron London
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
Delivered straight from the temple
Hip hop ya don't stop
One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, rock!
Well as an infant I was born into religion,

My mother called me Baptist
But what she forgot to mention
Was what Baptist meant.
The story goes God sent his only begotten son

To make sure that I would have one.
As I learned in Sunday school,
He's... to disrespect my mother and father would be taboo.
But as I grew I met a Jew, a Catholic and a Protestant

And couldn't figure out where Baptist fit.
Hastily got crazy that ya made me see
Brother has confronted me with such ambiguity.
Are you Jehovah, Buddha, or shall I call you Allah?

All the words for Heavenly Father.
I just like to be a scholar on the subject called theology,
So that's how mi figure,
While they call themselves Christians, usedâ??a call me *****.

And... black hole leaves no control over thought.
I leave my body to see where the pits
Go high when the physical takes control.
No communications with the inner self

The prize is the otherwise wise, who has spiritual health.
Got to explain, they had the problems visions of gettin' along with herself,
Cheap on the corner, cornered herself and becomes a mourner.
Logic, brothers -

Ah, yo sista, can Prazwel and Wyclef get some - check it out.
Delivered straight from the temple,
Hip hop ya don't stop
One o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, rock!

Delivered straight from the temple,
I had no time to sample,
My cousin's name was Samuel,
I wasn't allowed to use the turntables,

My dad was a preacher so rap music was your devilism,
And if the wordsâ??d say "Thank you, Lord",
I couldn't listen.
So I used to sneak to listen to DJ Red Alert,

To check the competition.
And DJ Red Alert goes berserk,
'Cause as a young lad I had a big rap pad,
'Cause he who waited to practice would someday be the greatest guy.

So I checked them as they flippin'
Sometimes their padsâ??re not slippin'
They think they rippin' rappin'
The only 'rappin' they doing is in the room before they packin'.

You gained the world, sucker
But you lost your soul.
The devil brought you us, all you do is sell a foe.
Life after death could be eternal fire,

So some get blunted but you're back on earth when it's all over.
Mama said that blunt was a stun to the brain
So some say, "I don't smoke",
But on a [unknown] he sniff coke

He won the lotto - now he dies of an overdose
While the bum he picked a hole to sleep, he wanted a deep throat.
So ask yourself the question â??Who's really maxin'?â??,
'Cause some check in but don't check out and need a Hell or Heaven high

But to some Earth is Hell, in Heaven's death
So they pretend to be Hades and kill till there's nothin' left â?? ha.
But I might hit â??em with a gun that's harder than all guns
My check from the temple - check the text

(It's got the news to get wreck)
Can I get a witness? Check the text.
Get wrecked. Check the text, check the text
(It's got the new [unknown] to get wreck), can I get a witness?

(Check the text), here we go yo
Well I arrive let me tell you what I see in my third eye.
Many die they call a battle, they got crucified.
Justice is righteous in the eyes of the beholder,

While the younger the better,
But the older the wiser
Mama used to read in deep from the Book of Proverbs
But the bird said the word was absurd, have ya heard?

Knowledge - I come to teach
While I increase ya decrease
Some say peace, but on a street a .45's my piece
Hallelujah, hallelujah, praise be to thee Jah â?¦.

Come
On the nineteentheth of October I remember
Startin' my life on as a natural lever
'Cause I lick one-two-three/four-five-six/seven shots

While any priest here builds his church on a solid rock.
Hit me!
So feel the spirit comin' from the Heaven above.
(Hey, Pras, how could you be a hood and full of so much love?)

I said, "In every man's chest there beats a heart
Hip-hop's where it starts, I tried to master the art.
Come on!"

How Hard Is It

length: 3:53
producer: Pras Michel, Wyclef Jean and Khalis Bayyan
mixer: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Pras Michel, Khalis Bayyan and Wyclef Jean
additional: Levi
additional programming: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
assistant mixer: Ron London
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Khalis Bayyan, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
Wait a second, draw back, ban this here I come
Stick this business, stock me up, they took me coat with a stun gun
On a Sunday, a bloody Sunday, so what's the resume?
Heads got felt in the force I heard a Milky Way
I caught a heart attack when I heard my cousin ?
In Avenue D. in Brooklyn New York City
Ever since I used my man I moved to Jersey
But realistically, God, could of called me early
'Cause I got a big bop I'm wanted by the block
I take a ruff-neck chicken make stop in stone top
'Cause I roll with the army of sixty-eight
The Privates' don't make the orders it's the General that makes the wig-wack
Buy her back, buy a cat, I got scratched in a day to kidnap
And at night I was back and the Jeep got attacked by a gang that sold crack
But the posse was strapped it was nothin' but crap!!
I got cuffed in the back, in the jail there were rats
So I pulled out my mack to get out of this crap
Though I wish I could zap outta here but I quack like a dog
That pass gats so I put the gas mask on the mic
There were blasts cause I do it it's my task
And all the jumper the guys that I see to me pass the class
Check out the vocab, it'll get out, then get it, do it again
Gift of the guy if you're good you're good, if you're bad you're bad

[Chorus]
So how hard is it? (Hard as it can get)
I want to know, how hard do you want to it? (Hard as it can get)

One, two (One, two), three, four (Three, four)
Hardcore (Hardcore), hardcore (Hardcore)
Yo, watch yourself for your health I'll snatch your last breath
Then I left you up for another one bites the dust
You couldn't ride me if you went behind the bush, gush
Leave the style alone, don't try to follow me
'Cause a life of the hood make it a little triggery
So keep your eyes on the prize, don't be surprised
'Cause on my half I may pull out a semi-automatic sixty-eight
Watch around my back it's mainly static
Droppin' emcees like a bad habit
Here come the Pras with a new package

Mad and they ignorance, think they can test the performance of an ancient (Rapper!)
Let me break it down in a dialect (Badder!)
Easier said than what the mono said
'Cause there's more than righter rapper, paid for the rapper be-bop
'Cause he said everybody's rappin', them and they momma
So when I grab the mic I grab it like a gangster
Microphone sniper 'cause it'll be the prowler

Launch it, it's trife, no magic, the realistic maggot
Don't leave the gadget or you'll be gat it
Simple, the riddle, who's the monkey in the middle
What's the goose, um!
So let me cut his neck loose yo
I keep it positive and not so negative
These is when you diss, emcees take it
So send it to they call the battle
I'ma raw I let it rappin' now I'm more
Your ball, you're waitin' for me to fall, but I won't

[Chorus]

I gotta jump on the A-Train, I saw cat with a scat he was blowin' like Coltrane
My boys' said give him a call, I gave him a dollar, he said are you a rapper?
Kids have a seat and don't miss a beat and listen to the battle of the saxin' in your emcee

Now Red Rock, call Red Rock, call Red Rock, call Red Rock, call Red Rock call
(It could mean rewind the gun-check me baby)

I rock and shock the dough is show squeeze and cheese and whether pleasin'
(It could mean rewind the gun-check me baby)
I rock and shock the dough is show squeeze and cheese and whether pleasin'
Coolin' breezin' at the teas and how can emcees do was sneeze
(Flower, blow!)

[Chorus: Repeat]

Harlem Chit Chat Interlude

length: 0:50
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Ron London and Paul Higgins
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Rashad Muhammad

Some Seek Stardom

length: 3:42
producer: Rashad Muhammad and Stephen Walker
mixer: Rashad Muhammad and Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Rashad Muhammad and Stephen Walker
guitar: Larry Stokes
bass guitar: Rashad Muhammad
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
Check the crippled man, sitting in the church
My conscience hurts, flesh like me hits the dirt
She's paralyzed from her feet to her thighs

And the man who pulled the trigger didn't even lose his necktie
Hi, I check Jimmy cutting hair at the barbershop
He plays the bass guitar, like David plays the harp
His knowledge name is Greek, cause whenever he speaks

He's got the wisdom of King Solomon bags in his eyes from no sleep
Sometimes he thought of the fame in Madison Square Garden
So some seek stardom, but they forget Harlem
But seeking first of all the kingdom of God is what my pops told me

So if I fall, could the choir catch me
I flew away, on a mountain, got tempted by Satan
Got bitten by a cobra, but the Lord took my venom
So who's side am I on? I'm on the righteous
Always check the lyrics, no time to contradict

[Chorus]
Some seek stardom, then they forget Harlem [Repeat: x3]
They, brothers, sisters, families, people, we, brothers
Keep their pockets full, but their souls run empty

Well aiyyo family I beseech you, in the hopes that I may reach you
My mother taught me one day that this mid-day would come someday
Born to talk that jive, with peaky hair grown wild
And teachers disliked me, cause I knew where my culture be

So now yeah mom I read history, I can't neglect my passion see
Rock it's kind of new to me, cause my true love was poetry
White was good and bad was black but black was just a massa lackey
Built for that B. Nimble Jack and I'd like to save you from the wicked

D-Dog clear I wouldn't be wet
The black to mourn, tomorrow's death
The evil things, glad that I, while angels wrote this violence why?
Help me make me comprehend my black berserk and why cast it

Time to blaze the angels nappy heads are braided that you make me
See what's hard for me that don't make you flee
When I enter your vicinity, you see my God ain't never after me
So yo I be wised up with Greek

To go and be, the last and good and see what's wrong with me
And through your insecurity of me and my ability
So bredren won't you let me be or has thou asked to much from thy
To tell the truth and not to lie? Oh my

[Chorus: x2]

But as I grew, I knew cause the master told me
From a baby to a woman from a woman to a baby
Life is so short, hardcore becomes hard-corpse
Step in a coffin where the money's no longer the source

There we go, there we go, there we go
I got mine now won't you get yours, we never open doors
So we neglect, and don't protect the ones that's not
People never really seem to care

And then they cry out, "My people! Why aren't we treated equal?"
As we flee, we flee our own communities
We leave our family in poverty
And then we blame it on another, so family please recover

Oh see'mon please come now with you can come with me now and blow now
If you want to, we're through

[Chorus: x4]

Giggles

length: 4:21
producer: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
membranophone: Derrick Darling
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
co-producer: Rashad Muhammad and Khalis Bayyan
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
(Pras)
Aiyyo, somethin' funny, somethin' got you caught up in digs
It's me, why you want to pimp with today?
Two made from the boy, yeah
Now, helpless, he's tryin' cause he full of giggles

You gonna need more than an iron to stretch out ya wrinkles
You startin' so ordinary, and me, map me out for sprinkler
You got the fever for the flavor for the giggles
Who got the giggles is the jam of December, hey

I remember we release specifically
Back in grammar school days it's me the E's-M-T
Totally and directly, wonder, more than too fresh and nuttin' really else today
It was my accent and where I came from that ya really hate

The 'N' wear - Levi's, Pumas, struggle Adidas
Some say I'm with the losers cause I didn't have the ladies
No are-E-F-P's, the T as we can't get no punanny
Definitely hittin' them daily

Now I roll with the squad that's so hard and makes
You want to catch an erection - relax man!!
I don't allow you to put-out actin' on if the one's direction
So it's Pete Prop, yo what's up man, hah

So if ya were thankful then I see cause the paper
Gettin' murderin' like the a-lovin' - now the news - Rodney King is
Now with the double list comin' through your speakers
Remember durin' steebers, why don't you get your speakers tweetered, whoo!!

(Chorus)
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles

(Pras)
Now ya want to be down, you come around, touch gun of the town
You gotta dig my sound - Wow!!
It seems like everybody's jumpin' on the bandWAGON!!
Her money grabbin' a chick is a suburban dragon

I wasn't all of that - rappin' - but this is now
What's the matter? Ya milkin' like a freakin' cow
Cat guns yo' Tennessee, here kitty, kitty, kitty
Here *****, *****, *****, ***** cat

You start to smell like one - all you really are was the head
I want to give a shout-out to those who try and curse
My fave for ??? gat, you were funny though
Shall, shall, leave the play-down

These are the things we can do without, huh
So what's this all about man?
Just when I thought I was chillin' with my Lee's
And my fellas, seeds and my pro-kicks

My style was so deaf, "thuggin' won't even make it fresh" he said
So now I need my tracks that ?bite-neck? Fred
It's that ya mess with, it's just stitches that I thread
Loadin' the clip for-go-twenty-four-Karen-Lead
Her double-days, puttin' 'G' at her head - RAPOW!! You're dead

(Chorus)
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles

(Chorus: Lauryn Hill)
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles

(Pras)
You ever havin' the giggles to the HUH!!
The hiccups, the kinda hiccups that makes ya want to come up
In your face and throw up, you're totally ?smuck?!!
You feelin' dirty and quitter, you neither or either a home or hitter
Much more like Peter but couldn't beat her pick
Caught in the middle with the rhythm, you're feelin'
Wish she trippin', you'll be livin' with the A-hahahahahaha......
The giggles

(Chorus)
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles?
You got the giggles, they got the giggles
Everybody got the giggles

Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles
Who got the giggles man? Who got the giggles man?
Who got the giggles man? Everybody got the giggles...

Da Kid From Haiti Interlude

mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel

Refugees on the Mic

length: 4:58
producer: Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel
mixer: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
engineer: Ron London and Paul Higgins
arranger: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
co-producer: Khalis Bayyan
additional programming: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
assistant mixer: Ron London
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
ReFugees On The Mic Lyrics
Fugees

(Intro: Wyclef Jean)
Yo', check it out, I want all the refugees out there
To just put up your **********in' hands, you know you're a ****in' immigrant
Put up your hands youknowhatI'msayin'?
I'ma start this **** off like this, this time around

(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I
Live or die, it's nothin' but a dark side
Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah
Yo', refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah
H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I
Live or die, it's nothin' but a dark side
Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah
Yo', refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah

(Wyclef Jean)
If you wanna snap (SNAP), if you wanna crack (CRACK)
If you wanna shoot, give me a second so I can lay flat
Cause this, some the cemetery's, the reality
Where the tough guys get buried in their property
Word to Sampson, the tone will get you hung
I had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old son
I heard him cursin' the essence of the, the (PAUSE) committed the crime
But ah, murder got no time
The country has no law, it's either rich or poor
I'm out the back door, I got nuttin' to fight for
I'm sailin' on a boat like a goat - I clear my throat
When I got to Brooklyn, I was broke, so I selled coke
I look in through microscope, for my country and the hurt
My eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian Pope
Figure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom X
Swing like the ki's, so should I put on David Tomerfest
Though I'm humberlicious strugglin' to jump
Let me blow her upper-her bubble in your face - that'cha ego!
Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stable
Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival
When will he come, what will he do, what will he say?
That's all a mystery, but have your hand grenade
So you can blow the ************ away
Beep, beep, I gotta make a sale so I can eat
So Praswell, grab the mic and be complete

(Pras)
Huh, lovin' the wreck in effect, will be all in checkmate
Another style for Praswell to translate
For those who can't relate to stay down my - no-man wait
No mistake, when I tell you, your prophet is a fake

(Wyclef Jean)
You said a contract on a Haitian, three-hundred g's
Your sharpshooters are lousy, we mend to-high-be-high hoodies
So show your face-a when you waste, I know who's smokin'
The bigger that you try to put out yours just makes me Mr. Nobody
Take high wit'cha just right, it'll be like Michael get ordered, a viper you know!!
Yeah, a viper cause you might lose a life to the side by like
What did I have to in the line of the barkin' of the bright side
You tried to scare me but I won't mover-a
The bully of the block becomes the hour of the glock
So cuckoo!! The sounds I run are rollin' with the bodyguard
But don't forget the day it's sunny but it'll be foggy

And in the funeral, you'll be singin' a new tune
May your soul rest on the moon (?Jack in wood spoon!!?)
In Channel Seven, you said: "Death before Cut"
You killed so many that your conscience ended up - whattup? (WHAT!!)
Aiyyo black men, you're dyin' by a dozen cousin
So all I do is walk away yo' Prince as if nothin' happened
You call me a punk, I gotta step cause all you did was flex
But don't get closer cause the kid still gotta keep his rep
See I'm known for the crew like the jewel was the jewel
Like the follow got the boo, like the miller got the boo
Let the fool cop the man-jewel, suck up, up the ?cool-lew?
Oh why you got the ha-ha-lew-lew?
I got the rap loose, so sci-bi-dee-bob-bob, you don't stop
You do the rap-rap, from hip-hop to be-bop, from be-bop
To beep-beep, the Haitian kid, beeper's goin' off beep-beep
I gotta make a sale so I can eat, beep, beep
The Haitian kid, beeper's goin' off, you know I got no time to sleep, so beep-beep

(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I
Live or die, it's nothin' but a dark side
Fugees on the mic, YEAH!!
Yo', refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah

(Pras)
Man, I went to cops the other day to plead for my innocence
They brought me in another charges of a legal residents
And L-E-N, on a foreign land, a ????
Watch me go back to my land and then there will be a thing
Gorillas in the mist, where everything, and the light becomes a priest
They put up they guard, they pump up they fists
Now I'm number one on they **********in' hit-list...
Goin' down for first degree of manslaughter
Makin' change out of emcee's makin' them outta quarters
That's they value, that's what they worth
Cause the first shall be last and the last shall be first, yeah
What we learned was to burn, now cause you see-came
With that machette, it's your turn
It's not funny, but twenty a month is what you earn baby
(We on to the Yankee, pass the mic to the "Yankee")

(Lauryn Hill)
Well I'm as cool to ya the mic I'm checkin' comin' from my temple
With a message, to deliver, but the back is very simple
I'm the girl "Yankee" rollin' wit' the kids from Haiti
Coolin' as a mighty grab who gets the last laugh hahaha...
You bite size with my Haitian from they stinks as my "Yankee"
Wonderin' who was the first to pull over girl as soon as it came out son
My history - a hypocrite, so what we gonna do?
The dope is dope is only get the man since that is true
So hip-hip with my lip as I rip with a felt tip
With a righteous situation, interpretation, a graduation
Your ventilation, and education, segregation, emancipation
A capitalization, it's agration, not separation, ya breath the Haitians...

H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I...



Livin Like There Ain’t No Tomorrow

producer: Wyclef Jean and Pras Michel
mixer: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
engineer: Paul Higgins and Ron London
arranger: Pras Michel and Wyclef Jean
additional programming: Ivan “Doc” Rodriguez
assistant mixer: Ron London
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
[Wyclef Jean]
Yo check it out.
This is the boy Wyclef from Translators, I'm coming from the
Booga Basement with a roots drink in my hands.
So put the Rotts tonics in the air,
yeah cause I'm-a start this one off like this.
Cause *****s are living like there ain't no tomorrow.
I nuked this on the S900 cause I couldn't fford a 1100.
I'm-a start this one a little something like this. Here we go.
Hey yo people you're living like there ain't no tomorrow
You get caught in the terra asside em and ga morro
Father, forgive him for he know not what he done
When the bum search for drums, the son search for condoms
He seek no, with his ring but with his head
That leave many dead in hospital beds; now you and death are newlyweds
So before I enter the tunnel I step back and shake it
Is it world the death or better life in a casket
Destruction of the flesh, new reporter wasn't coming
The devil cursed him cause he couldn't follow 10 commandments

[Chorus]
Living like there ain't no tomorrow
You're living like there ain't no tomorrow
You're living like there ain't no tomorrow
You open up your eyes and them was ga marrow. WOO!
Living like there ain't no tomorrow
You're living like there ain't no tomorrow
You're living like there ain't no tomorrow
Open up your eyes.

I called up the VP, she told me she was busy watching TV with Roxy
I told her I was coming, she said that ain't necessary
three's a crowd, so what's the philosophy?
Another girl trying to take my girl away from me, easy
**** the door, I jumped through the window
Somewhere over the rainbow
Paranable and the ***** still in my home
Stick stick in your socket, I sacrifice you like a live rabbit
Fatal attraction the coffin's the cabinet
Cause in the 90's girls got dicks
So keep the light on and make sure that the chick don't that back
She said that she did it with some girl named Lisa
I said what's the boot yo, she pulled the camcorder
Bust it, so what's the charge, you called me a womanizor?
I tried to say sorrym she said say sorry for Taquisha.
Chairs come flying my way like balls at basketball practice.
Call the priest cause she's turning to the exorcist
She kicked me out cause she was paying for the apartment
That's real, you got no girl, if you got no money to spend
But she had loved me for my mind and my poetic skills
But bow i'm checking magazings and getting cheap thrills
Asking myself when will it end?
Cause when it came to sex, my hand was my best friends

[Chorus]

I had a cousin like a brother
He tried to play me undercover
He said I didn't bang her
But the girl was his secret lover
But I played stupid like my brain had no minerals
It's so hard to say good-bye we singing at the funeral
Girls smash it up easy, when they know they got the bugsy
He used to sleep alone, but now he's riding Mrs. Daisy
You say all my business my life's my life my knife's my knife
So I be the lion that guards the trife
But at the party, I still move my waistline
A girl approached me and asked me for the time
I said; no disrespect, but check the watch on your wrist
And if you're looking for a hit check Charles Bronson from Death Wish
Then All of a sudden her man pushed me from the back
I turned out real cool- I said why did you do that?
The name is Clef, Clef bon
Then mark my word that I'm-a break your ****ing arm
Unless you apologize and pick on someone your size
Not too cookoo-hit you-but the 4 to the 5
Point it to your nose
Now your blood turns to snow.

[Chorus]

Yeah, word is born

Shout Outs From the Block

length: 9:18
mixer: Kendal Stubbs
engineer: Ron London and Paul Higgins
assistant mixer: Warren Riker
assistant engineer: Alvin Lewis
writer: Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel

Nappy Heads (remix)

length: 5:22
remixer: Salaam Remi
engineer: Eddison Electrik and Gary Noble
assistant engineer: Jim Viviano, FatKevneck P and Alvin Lewis
writer: Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel
[Wyclef]
Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking
Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around the way.

[Wyclef]
Yo, hey, nappy head.

[Lauryn]
Yo, whats up?

[Wyclef]
What you got there?

[Lauryn]
I got some of that lyrical cheeba cheeba.

[Wyclef]
Word?

A cheeba cheeba, y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all.
A cheeba cheeba, y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all.

[Wyclef]
You want to battle swing? I bring commanding men, like I was king.
In all your dreams I write the horror flick of Stephen King.
Cling to false, also those papers say ock.
I got tired of the fat lady so I sing to my own opera.
Ba-lang-balang-balang-to-de-man-de-rock-'cause I love thee.
If you live by the sword, you will be die by the gun,
'Cause all guys tell lies, and more girls commits it.
I was ordered to code red, but now I'm chillin' with a few good men.
Assassination on the kid from the capitol.
I never play the soap opera, but now I'm a general hospital.
Condition critical, spirit over who's the physical.
So if I die, catch me at the funeral.
I'll fly away, oh glory,
With a mic in my hand, to a land where only God knows me,
And the angels write raps on holy paper.
I said: I'm lookin for Jesus, he said: take the escalator
One flight up, is guaranteed you'll be there.
My sister'd be there, my mother'd be there.
So, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking
Saturday-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay.
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around de way.

[Lauryn Hill]
I don't puff blunts, so I always got my breath.
Never had to battle with a bullet proof vest.
They call me ****-weasel, but I still cave a chest.
I don't wear Jheri curls, 'cause I'm nah from the West.
No disrespect to the West, true indeed,
I rock it to the East, the East is the seed.
To see that them days back, yo sheepskins and hot tracks.
Peace to Mr. Magic, things are getting tragic.
Now we on some new stuff, I never feared the Ku Kluk.
My own clan is actin' up, I blame it on the Phillie blunt.
Whatcha gonna do, kids are acting oooohhhh.
Hill is gettin' fed up, yo, where's the coporate at?
A mister three-piece-suit.
Check the square roots, Girbauds and Timberland boots.
Nah, that's the serpents, and know them garment tips.
I got a head full of problems and a hand full of nappy roots.
I feel a Jones' comin' down, yo I

(I got the slang to make the chitty-bang-bang
A rid-dang-de-dang, the nappy head bang.)
No I, got the slang to make the chitty-bang-bang
A rid-dang-de-dang, the nappy heads bang.)

Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking
Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' 'round de way,
Nappy heads in the zone and we're not goin' home!

[Prazwell & Wyclef]
Hey, yo, a battle is a battle but a battle's not a battle.
If it's snake doesn't rattle,
'Cause my style's as old as a reptile.
As slick as a new Nile, as new as a new child.
So come follow me to the land of Abraham.
This land's your land, this land's my land.
The blacker the black man, the better the next man.
(Yo, some nappy heads need to check they necks for red.)

I feel injection,
Put the needle to your skin, feel reality's heroin.
You maintain to put a negro in pain, you used to diss me.
"Oh, you want to hang with old Eddie Kane?" (The Five Heartbeats.)
Ain't nuttin' wrong, snap your head to the song.
Word is bond, you get wrong, I'll have you sing like Louis Armstrong.
And I say to myself, what a wonderful world,
But what the hell was so wonderful 'bout cotton in the farm?
Mr. Slave Man!
The harder they come, the harder they fall, so come one, come all.
Don't stall or I'm a stick you like a voodoo doll.
Doors locked, stop drawer for the count, who drops.
You slept on a kid from the boondocks,
Out of Motorville land of the ill kill.
Bellsburg Viking, so you know I'm top ranking, Phil.
Some say who coming, like, like the yuma, but save the rumor,
'Cause I've been rockin' ever since eighty-two,
When I used to rock my Pumas

A cheeba cheeba y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all. [Repeat: x4]
Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind taking

Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around de way.
Nappy heads in the zone and we're not goin' home!

Saturday
Round up de posse, Fugee comin' around de way.
Nappy heads in the zone and we're not goin' home!

I wear my sunglasses at night
To spy on my girlfriend, that's right.
They dancin', romancin', freakin', at night!
Yes, yes, yes, a yes, yes, y'all.

I wear my sunglasses at night
To spy on my girlfriend, that's right.
They dancin', romancin', freakin', at night!
Yes, yes, yes, a yes, yes, y'all.

Mona Lisa
Nappy heads in the zone and we not goin' home!

A cheeba cheeba y'all, well, I'm a Libra, y'all. [Repeat: x4]
And to the beat y'all, and to the beat y'all, come on everybody.