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Refugees on the mic
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Current song lyrics
(Intro: Wyclef Jean)<br>Yo´, check it out, I want all the refugees out there<br>to just put up your motherfuckin´ hands, you know you´re a fuckin´ immigrant<br>Put up your hands youknowhatI´msayin´?<br>I´ma start this shit off like this, this time around<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I<br>Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side<br>Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah<br>Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah<br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I<br>Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side<br>Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah<br>Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>If you wanna snap (SNAP), if you wanna crack (CRACK)<br>If you wanna shoot, give me a second so I can lay flat<br>Cause this, some the cemetary´s, the reality<br>Where the tough guys get buried in their property<br>Word to Sampson, the tone will get you hung<br>I had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old son<br>I heard him cursin´ the essence of the, the (PAUSE) committed the crime<br>But ah, murder got no time<br>The country has no law, it´s either rich or poor<br>I´m out the back door, I got nuttin´ to fight for<br>I´m sailin´ on a boat like a goat - I clear my throat<br>When I got to Brooklyn, I was broke, so I selled coke<br>I look in through microscope, for my country and the hurt<br>My eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian Pope<br>Figure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom X<br>Swing like the ki´s, so should I put on David Tomerfest<br>Though I´m humberlicious strugglin´ to jump<br>let me blow her upper-her bubble in your face - that´cha ego!<br>Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stable<br>Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival<br>When will he come, what will he do, what will he say?<br>That´s all a mystery, but have your hand grenade<br>so you can blow the motherfucker away<br>Beep, beep, I gotta make a sale so I can eat<br>So Praswell, grab the mic and be complete<br><br>(Pras)<br>Huh, lovin´ the wreck in effect, will be all in checkmate<br>Another style for Praswell to translate<br>For those who can´t relate to stay down my - no-man wait<br>No mistake, when I tell you, your prophet is a fake<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>You said a contract on a Haitian, three-hundred g´s<br>Your sharpshooters are lousy, we mend to-high-be-high hoodies<br>So show your face-a when you waste, I know who´s smokin´<br>The bigger that you try to put out yours just makes me Mr. Nobody<br>Take high wit´cha just right, it´ll be like Michael get ordered, a viper you know!!<br>Yeah, a viper cause you might lose a life to the side by like<br>what did I have to in the line of the barkin´ of the bright side<br>You tried to scare me but I won´t mover-a<br>The bully of the block becomes the hour of the glock<br>So cuckoo!! The sounds I run are rollin´ with the bodyguard<br>But don´t forget the day it´s sunny but it´ll be foggy<br><br>And in the funeral, you´ll be singin´ a new tune<br>May your soul rest on the moon (?Jack in wood spoon!!?)<br>In Channel Seven, you said: "Death before Cut"<br>You killed so many that your conscience ended up - whattup? (WHAT!!)<br>Aiyyo black men, you´re dyin´ by a dozen cousin<br>So all I do is walk away yo´ Prince as if nothin´ happened<br>You call me a punk, I gotta step cause all you did was flex<br>But don´t get closer cause the kid still gotta keep his rep<br>See I´m known for the crew like the jewel was the jewel<br>Like the follow got the boo, like the miller got the boo<br>Let the fool cop the man-jewel, suck up, up the ?cool-lew?<br>Oh why you got the ha-ha-lew-lew?<br>I got the rap loose, so sci-bi-dee-bob-bob, you don´t stop<br>You do the rap-rap, from hip-hop to be-bop, from be-bop<br>to beep-beep, the Haitian kid, beeper´s goin´ off beep-beep<br>I gotta make a sale so I can eat, beep, beep<br>The Haitian kid, beeper´s goin´ off, you know I got no time to sleep, so beep-beep<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I<br>Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side<br>Fugees on the mic, YEAH!!<br>Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah<br><br>(Pras)<br>Man, I went to cops the other day to plead for my innocence<br>They brought me in another charges of a legal residents<br>And L-E-N, on a foreign land, a ????<br>Watch me go back to my land and then there will be a thing<br>Gorillas in the mist, where everything, and the light becomes a priest<br>They put up they guard, they pump up they fists<br>Now I´m number one on they motherfuckin´ hit-list...<br>Goin´ down for first degree of manslaughter<br>Makin´ change out of emcee´s makin´ them outta quarters<br>That´s they value, that´s what they worth<br>Cause the first shall be last and the last shall be first, yeah<br>What we learned was to burn, now cause you c-came<br>with that machette, it´s your turn<br>It´s not funny, but twenty a month is what you earn baby<br>(We on to the Yankee, pass the mic to the "Yankee")<br><br>(Lauryn Hill)<br>Well I´m as cool to ya the mic I´m checkin´ comin´ from my temple<br>With a message, to deliver, but the back is very simple<br>I´m the girl "Yankee" rollin´ wit´ the kids from Haiti<br>coolin´ as a mighty grab who gets the last laugh hahaha...<br>You bite size with my Haitian from they stinks as my "Yankee"<br>wonderin´ who was the first to pull over girl as soon as it came out son<br>My history - a hypocrite, so what we gonna do?<br>The dope is dope is only get the man since that is true<br>So hip-hip with my lip as I rip with a felt tip<br>with a righteous situation, interpretation, a graduation<br>Your ventilation, and education, segregation, emancipation<br>a capitalization, it´s agration, not separation, ya breath the Haitians...<br><br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I...
New song lyrics
(Intro: Wyclef Jean)<br>Yo´, check it out, I want all the refugees out there<br>to just put up your motherfuckin´ hands, you know you´re a fuckin´ immigrant<br>Put up your hands youknowhatI´msayin´?<br>I´ma start this shit off like this, this time around<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I<br>Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side<br>Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah<br>Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah<br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I<br>Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side<br>Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah<br>Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>If you wanna snap (SNAP), if you wanna crack (CRACK)<br>If you wanna shoot, give me a second so I can lay flat<br>Cause this, some the cemetary´s, the reality<br>Where the tough guys get buried in their property<br>Word to Sampson, the tone will get you hung<br>I had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old son<br>I heard him cursin´ the essence of the, the (PAUSE) committed the crime<br>But ah, murder got no time<br>The country has no law, it´s either rich or poor<br>I´m out the back door, I got nuttin´ to fight for<br>I´m sailin´ on a boat like a goat - I clear my throat<br>When I got to Brooklyn, I was broke, so I selled coke<br>I look in through microscope, for my country and the hurt<br>My eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian Pope<br>Figure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom X<br>Swing like the ki´s, so should I put on David Tomerfest<br>Though I´m humberlicious strugglin´ to jump<br>let me blow her upper-her bubble in your face - that´cha ego!<br>Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stable<br>Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival<br>When will he come, what will he do, what will he say?<br>That´s all a mystery, but have your hand grenade<br>so you can blow the motherfucker away<br>Beep, beep, I gotta make a sale so I can eat<br>So Praswell, grab the mic and be complete<br><br>(Pras)<br>Huh, lovin´ the wreck in effect, will be all in checkmate<br>Another style for Praswell to translate<br>For those who can´t relate to stay down my - no-man wait<br>No mistake, when I tell you, your prophet is a fake<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>You said a contract on a Haitian, three-hundred g´s<br>Your sharpshooters are lousy, we mend to-high-be-high hoodies<br>So show your face-a when you waste, I know who´s smokin´<br>The bigger that you try to put out yours just makes me Mr. Nobody<br>Take high wit´cha just right, it´ll be like Michael get ordered, a viper you know!!<br>Yeah, a viper cause you might lose a life to the side by like<br>what did I have to in the line of the barkin´ of the bright side<br>You tried to scare me but I won´t mover-a<br>The bully of the block becomes the hour of the glock<br>So cuckoo!! The sounds I run are rollin´ with the bodyguard<br>But don´t forget the day it´s sunny but it´ll be foggy<br><br>And in the funeral, you´ll be singin´ a new tune<br>May your soul rest on the moon (?Jack in wood spoon!!?)<br>In Channel Seven, you said: "Death before Cut"<br>You killed so many that your conscience ended up - whattup? (WHAT!!)<br>Aiyyo black men, you´re dyin´ by a dozen cousin<br>So all I do is walk away yo´ Prince as if nothin´ happened<br>You call me a punk, I gotta step cause all you did was flex<br>But don´t get closer cause the kid still gotta keep his rep<br>See I´m known for the crew like the jewel was the jewel<br>Like the follow got the boo, like the miller got the boo<br>Let the fool cop the man-jewel, suck up, up the ?cool-lew?<br>Oh why you got the ha-ha-lew-lew?<br>I got the rap loose, so sci-bi-dee-bob-bob, you don´t stop<br>You do the rap-rap, from hip-hop to be-bop, from be-bop<br>to beep-beep, the Haitian kid, beeper´s goin´ off beep-beep<br>I gotta make a sale so I can eat, beep, beep<br>The Haitian kid, beeper´s goin´ off, you know I got no time to sleep, so beep-beep<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I<br>Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side<br>Fugees on the mic, YEAH!!<br>Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah<br><br>(Pras)<br>Man, I went to cops the other day to plead for my innocence<br>They brought me in another charges of a legal residents<br>And L-E-N, on a foreign land, a ????<br>Watch me go back to my land and then there will be a thing<br>Gorillas in the mist, where everything, and the light becomes a priest<br>They put up they guard, they pump up they fists<br>Now I´m number one on they motherfuckin´ hit-list...<br>Goin´ down for first degree of manslaughter<br>Makin´ change out of emcee´s makin´ them outta quarters<br>That´s they value, that´s what they worth<br>Cause the first shall be last and the last shall be first, yeah<br>What we learned was to burn, now cause you c-came<br>with that machette, it´s your turn<br>It´s not funny, but twenty a month is what you earn baby<br>(We on to the Yankee, pass the mic to the "Yankee")<br><br>(Lauryn Hill)<br>Well I´m as cool to ya the mic I´m checkin´ comin´ from my temple<br>With a message, to deliver, but the back is very simple<br>I´m the girl "Yankee" rollin´ wit´ the kids from Haiti<br>coolin´ as a mighty grab who gets the last laugh hahaha...<br>You bite size with my Haitian from they stinks as my "Yankee"<br>wonderin´ who was the first to pull over girl as soon as it came out son<br>My history - a hypocrite, so what we gonna do?<br>The dope is dope is only get the man since that is true<br>So hip-hip with my lip as I rip with a felt tip<br>with a righteous situation, interpretation, a graduation<br>Your ventilation, and education, segregation, emancipation<br>a capitalization, it´s agration, not separation, ya breath the Haitians...<br><br>H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I...
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