• The Score
    Seznam skladeb na albu
  • The Score

    Cowboys

    This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:

    (CHORUS) CLEF:

    Everyone wants to be a cowboy
    Grab your guns boy
    Forty-five by my side,
    No the n***er dies.

    PACE1:

    Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
    You shot your bullet, but the bullet when
    Desperado, do work for new boy
    I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy

    WYCLEF:

    Yo this was how the West was won,

    WYCLEF:

    Rappers want to be actors
    So they play the Jesse James Character

    PACE1:

    And get they bones fractured.

    PACE1:

    You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct
    Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton

    WYCLEF:

    Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies
    Thrown off the building like the Fall guy
    Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave
    Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves

    PACE1:

    Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley
    On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey
    With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot
    Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot

    WYCLEF:

    The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder
    Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher
    If you see him coming, you better start running
    Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.

    PACE1:

    Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash

    WYCLEF:

    Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.

    LAURYN:

    We make moves in stage coaches
    Ra Digga likes the roaches
    If anyone approaches
    We be like noches, buenos
    And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers
    R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.

    RA DIGGA:

    My style is perhaps one of the foulest
    I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.
    (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours
    The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.

    LAURYN:

    Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio
    (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.
    Cause me and Rashida rock the battles
    It's apparent, your no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.

    RA DIGGA:

    Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets
    Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips
    Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof
    Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.

    LAURYN:

    And for all you head beaters
    The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters
    While mamasitas carry real heaters.

    RA DIGGA:

    I rock the Dooby and
    L rocks the Nubian twists
    96
    Muthaf***as gettin' dissed

    CLEF (CHORUS):

    Everyone wants to be a cowboy
    Grab your guns boy
    Forty-five by my side,
    No the n***er dies.

    Young Zee:
    Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees
    It be more n***as than the NAACP
    Comin' up on weed of all type
    Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.

    PRAZ:

    (You've got to know when to hold them,
    Know when to fold them)
    I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine
    Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.

    Young Zee:

    So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa

    PRAZ:

    F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne
    Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane
    Yeah me and that kid, um "What's his name?"

    Young Zee:

    That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain
    Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,
    While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor
    F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,
    We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.
    So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La
    When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah

    FORTE:

    When pandemonium strikes, at midnight
    Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic
    On some absurd s**t
    You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger
    N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.
    Stick and slide with vigor
    City streets hot like liquor
    21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and
    Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'
    Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.
    You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten
    the bounty on your head, says your dead by manana
    Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot
    Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block
    Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'
    Gun players regular front page is the bonus
    Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners
    Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners

    CLEF (CHORUS):

    Everyone wants to be a cowboy
    Grab your guns boy
    Forty-five by my side,
    No the n***er dies.

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