|
Can I get five dollars |
|
So I can get something to eat |
|
HELL NO MOTHER****A |
|
You can't get no money from me |
|
Cause everytime I give you a dollar |
|
You go get shot up with more and more needles |
|
And you tell me that you're drug free |
|
Drug Free |
|
Mista mista |
|
I haven't ate anything for a week |
|
Can I get a quarter? |
|
HELL NO MOTHER****A |
|
What can a quarter get you? |
|
Nothing mother****a |
|
You are just ****ed up |
|
Off them ****ed up drugs |
|
You know you need to leave alone |
|
But you keep telling me that you're drug free |
|
MOTHER****A |
|
You ain't drug free, you're a fiend |
|
And everytime I try to help you |
|
You pretend as if it's okay |
|
Then later on in the week |
|
You go back to shootin' needles, to sniffin' |
|
Oh mf, but you told me you were DRUG FREE |
|
DRUG FREE |
|
You ain't drug free mother****a |
|
So you damn well, can't get no mother****in money from me |
|
[CLEF] |
|
We used to be number 10 |
|
But now we're permanent one |
|
Wyclef, Preacher's Son, Ichi bang, |
|
Listen Mrs. Tin Can |
|
I'm your candy handy man |
|
Me without you is like American without the Band Stand |
|
Cool fellow, dancehall stay mellow, |
|
All that guntalk who would have thought you died yellow |
|
Damn, another hero wannabe |
|
Now he sleeps with his friends in the mortuary |
|
Dude, I find it rude, when you intrude, |
|
My pistol nozzle hits your nasal, |
|
Doo doo comes out your anal |
|
Just because your buff, don't play tuff |
|
Cause I'll reverse the earth and turn your flesh back to dust. |
|
[LAURYN]:CHORUS |
|
Ooooh La La La, |
|
It's the way that we rock when we're doing our ting |
|
Oooh La La La, It's the natural LA that the Refugees Bring |
|
Oooh La La La La La La Lalala La Laaah, Sweeeeet Thing |
|
[FORTE] |
|
I stay high off the Fu-Gee-La |
|
Bust when we rush, |
|
Through you must, know ruckus |
|
Crew got G's like the refu's |
|
So F who |
|
Ever want to test |
|
Bring me stress, |
|
West coast back to east, |
|
Grab my toast when I reach |
|
Truly curvin', swervin, lifestyle is urban, |
|
Sippin' Bourbon, surviving |
|
We real to keep the word when |
|
A boy want fa testthis set |
|
Then you get wet-up |
|
Just a bit to unprepared to to shoot him fair bet |
|
[LAURYN] |
|
Fake bullets can't scar me |
|
I can smell the weak out like safari |
|
Play you out like Atari |
|
Sacrifice you Hari Kari |
|
And I'm sorry, |
|
To every single rapper, Dick and Harry |
|
Saying they want to spar me |
|
Cause how thick my repertoire |
|
And my memoir be |
|
Reminding me of eating Calamari in the Khalahari with a band of |
|
Rhastafari. |
|
Ha Ha Ha Ha, You shouldn't diss refugees, and |
|
Ha Ha Ha Ha, You whole sound set's bootie , and |
|
[LAURYN]:CHORUS |
|
Oooh La La La, It's the way that we rock when we're doing our ting |
|
Oooh La La La, It's the remix sound that the Refugees Bring |
|
Oooh La La La La La La Lalala La Laaah, Sweeeeet Thing |
|
[PRAZ] |
|
I sit 90 degrees underneath palm trees, |
|
Sitting in the cool breeze in the West Indies |
|
Flea to sea, Ship my keys |
|
On the Santa Maria, sip Sangria with senoritas |
|
(They keep telling me this and telling me that) |
|
They smile in my face then they talk behind my back |
|
But what they lack is the facts about my stats |
|
My rap impact will kill you softly like Roberta Flack |
|
[CLEF] 2X |
|
Ayo, What's goin' on |
|
Armageddon come you know we soon done |
|
Gun by my side just in case I gotta rump |
|
A boy on the side of Babylon, |
|
Trying to front like he's down with |
|
Mount Zion. |