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Look into the rhyme |
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Rum to the ripple |
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Sing boo, |
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But at times I come in triple. |
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Blaow, blaow put the heater to your head |
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Now your dead. |
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Wyclef don't give a *beep* if your dead. |
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Raaaaah, raaaah |
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Let me attack just like the black cat |
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You in the wrong neighborhood, check the map. |
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Hooo, you've got to go for backup |
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To do what you gotta do. |
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So you'll be back with France CU |
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Traitor in your crew is mafo heat |
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Put the poison in your tea |
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and kill the toad, But I'll be back with the centipede |
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I'm on some new technique, drunken bamboo |
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Awoo hoo a hoo, I'm taking all crews what. |
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Competition, stimulation for the rap man |
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Losers check your tooters |
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While I'm suckin' on your girls hooters. |
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Don't play macho, while you got the gun |
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Cause if you got to reload . . . |
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[CLEF] |
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Wyclef the multi-talented |
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Average heads can't handle it |
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I'll bring it to you live |
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Only if you want it. |
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Me and my guitar go back like the days of the RMC's |
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[C'mon check out my melody] |
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The W-Y-C-L-E-F, Wyclef |
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Through any contest |
|
I'm victorious |
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Still keep it real, if you will and manifest |
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Through your skills, not by how many shells you peel. |
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[PRAZ] |
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I'm a bring down the ruckus |
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Play the nutcracker |
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Rough-neck rednecks make me no bother |
|
Time after time, ask Cyndi Lauper, |
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Boss, you don't want to **** with my partners |
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Motion, commotion, what's your proposal |
|
Uphold two-fold, the crew is disposal |
|
Like utensil, false idental, |
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I autograph my lyrics with a number 2 pencil |
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[LAURYN] |
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I'm the L, Won't you pull it |
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Straight to the head |
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With the speed of a bullet |
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Cuttin' jokers off at the meeky-freeky gullet |
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Lyrical sedative, keep niggas medative |
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Head rushers I give to creative kids and fiends |
|
Dreams of euphoria, |
|
Aurora, |
|
To another galaxy |
|
Phallic-sy |
|
Be this microphone, but get lifted |
|
Lyrically I'm gifted |
|
Burn on in without the roach clip (it) |
|
Henders, mind-bender |
|
Pleasure sender, |
|
So frequently your nerve endings belong to me |
|
Wrongfully you put me down not receiving the full capacity of my smoke |
|
Wack niggas choke |
|
>From the fumes that I emote, |
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Or emit shit |
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See even I feel the mahogany L |
|
Natural hallucinogen |
|
Turning boys to men again |
|
With estrogen dreams |
|
Release blues, yellows and greens |
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>From Brownsville to Queens |
|
[DIAMOND-D] |
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I creep like a theif, no doubt the man's swift |
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I'm more magnificent than Lee Van Cliff |
|
You stand stiff and got the nerve to let your man riff |
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[We know where to run] |
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And start flakin' like dandruff. |
|
C'mon son my steelo's tight |
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Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic |
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On the right, analytical conceptions |
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With precision and leave lyrical incisions. |