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Текст песни Fugees (Tranzlator Crew) - Refugees On the Mic

Fugees (Tranzlator Crew) - Refugees On the Mic слова песни

(Intro: Wyclef Jean)Yo`, check it out, I want all the refugees out thereto just put up your motherfuckin` hands, you know you`re a fuckin` immigrantPut up your hands youknowhatI`msayin`?I`ma start this shit off like this, this time around(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-ILive or die, it`s nothin` but a dark sideFugees on the mic, yeah, yeahYo`, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeahH-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-ILive or die, it`s nothin` but a dark sideFugees on the mic, yeah, yeahYo`, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah(Wyclef Jean)If you wanna snap (SNAP), if you wanna crack (CRACK)If you wanna shoot, give me a second so I can lay flatCause this, some the cemetary`s, the realityWhere the tough guys get buried in their propertyWord to Sampson, the tone will get you hungI had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old sonI heard him cursin` the essence of the, the (PAUSE) committed the crimeBut ah, murder got no timeThe country has no law, it`s either rich or poorI`m out the back door, I got nuttin` to fight forI`m sailin` on a boat like a goat - I clear my throatWhen I got to Brooklyn, I was broke, so I selled cokeI look in through microscope, for my country and the hurtMy eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian PopeFigure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom XSwing like the ki`s, so should I put on David TomerfestThough I`m humberlicious strugglin` to jumplet me blow her upper-her bubble in your face - that`cha ego!Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stableWatch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revivalWhen will he come, what will he do, what will he say?That`s all a mystery, but have your hand grenadeso you can blow the motherfucker awayBeep, beep, I gotta make a sale so I can eatSo Praswell, grab the mic and be complete(Pras)Huh, lovin` the wreck in effect, will be all in checkmateAnother style for Praswell to translateFor those who can`t relate to stay down my - no-man waitNo mistake, when I tell you, your prophet is a fake(Wyclef Jean)You said a contract on a Haitian, three-hundred g`sYour sharpshooters are lousy, we mend to-high-be-high hoodiesSo show your face-a when you waste, I know who`s smokin`The bigger that you try to put out yours just makes me Mr. NobodyTake high wit`cha just right, it`ll be like Michael get ordered, a viper you know!!Yeah, a viper cause you might lose a life to the side by likewhat did I have to in the line of the barkin` of the bright sideYou tried to scare me but I won`t mover-aThe bully of the block becomes the hour of the glockSo cuckoo!! The sounds I run are rollin` with the bodyguardBut don`t forget the day it`s sunny but it`ll be foggyAnd in the funeral, you`ll be singin` a new tuneMay your soul rest on the moon (?Jack in wood spoon!!?)In Channel Seven, you said: "Death before Cut"You killed so many that your conscience ended up - whattup? (WHAT!!)Aiyyo black men, you`re dyin` by a dozen cousinSo all I do is walk away yo` Prince as if nothin` happenedYou call me a punk, I gotta step cause all you did was flexBut don`t get closer cause the kid still gotta keep his repSee I`m known for the crew like the jewel was the jewelLike the follow got the boo, like the miller got the booLet the fool cop the man-jewel, suck up, up the ?cool-lew?Oh why you got the ha-ha-lew-lew?I got the rap loose, so sci-bi-dee-bob-bob, you don`t stopYou do the rap-rap, from hip-hop to be-bop, from be-bopto beep-beep, the Haitian kid, beeper`s goin` off beep-beepI gotta make a sale so I can eat, beep, beepThe Haitian kid, beeper`s goin` off, you know I got no time to sleep, so beep-beep(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-ILive or die, it`s nothin` but a dark sideFugees on the mic, YEAH!!Yo`, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah(Pras)Man, I went to cops the other day to plead for my innocenceThey brought me in another charges of a legal residentsAnd L-E-N, on a foreign land, a ????Watch me go back to my land and then there will be a thingGorillas in the mist, where everything, and the light becomes a priestThey put up they guard, they pump up they fistsNow I`m number one on they motherfuckin` hit-list...Goin` down for first degree of manslaughterMakin` change out of emcee`s makin` them outta quartersThat`s they value, that`s what they worthCause the first shall be last and the last shall be first, yeahWhat we learned was to burn, now cause you c-camewith that machette, it`s your turnIt`s not funny, but twenty a month is what you earn baby(We on to the Yankee, pass the mic to the "Yankee")(Lauryn Hill)Well I`m as cool to ya the mic I`m checkin` comin` from my templeWith a message, to deliver, but the back is very simpleI`m the girl "Yankee" rollin` wit` the kids from Haiticoolin` as a mighty grab who gets the last laugh hahaha...You bite size with my Haitian from they stinks as my "Yankee"wonderin` who was the first to pull over girl as soon as it came out sonMy history - a hypocrite, so what we gonna do?The dope is dope is only get the man since that is trueSo hip-hip with my lip as I rip with a felt tipwith a righteous situation, interpretation, a graduationYour ventilation, and education, segregation, emancipationa capitalization, it`s agration, not separation, ya breath the Haitians...H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I...

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