Lauryn Hill：
Ready or not, Here I come, You can't hide
Gonna find you, and take it slowly
Ready or not, Here I come, You can't hide
Gonna find you, and make you want me
Wyclef:
Now that I escape sleep walk awake
those who correlate know the world they take
Jails bars and golden gates
those who fake they brake when they meet they four hundred pound mate
if i could rule the world, everyone would have a gun
and together of course we'd giddyup out on their horse
I kick a rhyme drinking moon shine
I poor sip in a concrete, but then deceased
but no don't weep, Wyclef's in a state of sleep
thinking about the ROBBERY that I did last WEEK
Money in the bag, bank a look like a drag
I wanna play like Pella cause from here to Bagdad
gun blast, think fast I think I'm hit
My girl pinched my hips to see if I still exist
I think not, I send a letter to my friends
A born-again hooligan, only to be king again
Chorus
Lauryn Hill:
yo, I play my enemies like a game of chess
without rest no stress if you don't smoke cess, less
i must confess my destiny's manifest
to some core text and sweats I make tracks like i'm homeless
Rap orgies with Porgy and Bess,
capture your bounty like Elliot Ness--YES!
Bless you if you represent the FU
but I hex you, with some witches' brew if you doo-doo
Voodo, I could do what you do, EASY!
Believe me, frontin' ******
gives me heebie-jeebies
so while you imitatin' Al Capone
I be Nina Simone and defacatin'g on your microphone
chorus
Lauryn Hill:
You can't run away from these styles I got
Oh baby, hey baby cause I got a lot oh yeah...
Anyway you go, my whole crew gonna know
Oh baby, hey baby you can't hide from the black gold now...
Pras:
Ready or not, refugees taking over
The buffalo soldier , dread like rasta
On the twelve hour flyby in my bomber
crews run for cover now they under pushin' up flowers
Superfly, true lies do or dies
toss me high only profile with my crew from Lacaille
I refugee from Guatanamo Bay,
dance around the border like i'm Cassius clay
Chorus
And yo nobody move....
Song: Zealots
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa
I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax.
Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation.
I Feel like Rockwell,"Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea.
And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit.
It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over
the earth.
:INTERLUDE
See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do.
Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time.
It's against the laws of Physics.
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile,
Many styles,
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays,
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming, I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris,
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your"Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory,
I add a ************ so you ignint ****** hear me.
And you remember take notes,
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots, here's a quote.
:(Chorus)
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa
You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo,
The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo.
Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start,
For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance.
Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka.
While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your
assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen
I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror,
As she cries"Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath.
Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet.
:(Chorus)
Another MC lose his life tonight, lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why
O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa
