Songtexte Fu-Gee-La - Fugees

(Where's my shit?)
Fugees

We used to be number ten, now we permanent on one
In the battle lost my finger, Mic became my arm
Pistol nozzle hits your nasal, blood becomes lukewarm
Tell the woman be easy nah squeeze the charmin'
Test Wyclef, see death flesh get scorned
Beat you so bad, make you feel like you ain't wanna be born, Jon
And tell your friends stay the hell out of my lawn
Chicken George became Dead George stealin' chickens from my farm
Damn, another dead pigeon
If your mafiosos then I'm bringin' on Haitian Sicilians

Nobody's shootin', my body's made of hand grenade
Girl bled to death while she was tongue-kissing a razor blade
That sounds sick, maybe one day I'll write a horror
Blackula comes to the ghetto, jacks an ACURA
Stevie Wonder sees crack babies
Be-coming enemies of their own families
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

Ooh, la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doing our thang
Ooh, la-la-la
It's the natural la that the Refugees bring
Ooh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing (yeah)
(She love me like she never before, ayy)

Yeah, in saloons we drink Boone's and battle goons 'til high noon
Bust rap toons on flat spoons, take no shorts like poon-poon's
See hoochies pop coochies, for Gucci's and Lucci
Find me in my Mitsubishi, eatin' sushi, bumpin' Fugees
Hey, hey, hey, try to take the crew and we don't play-play
Say, say, say like Paul McCartney, not hardly
Oddly enough, I can see right through your bluff
Niggas huff and they puff but they can't handle us, we bust

'Cause we fortified, I could never hide
Seen "Cooley High", cried when Cochise died
I'm twisted, black-listed by some other negroes
Don't remove my Polos on the first episode
Ha, ha, ha, ha, you shouldn't diss Refugees, and
Ha, ha, ha, ha, you whole sound set's bootie, and
Ha, ha, ha, ha, you have to respect jersey
'Cause I'm superfly when I'm super-high on the fu-gee-la

Ooh, la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doing our thang
Ooh, la-la-la
It's the natural la that the Refugees bring
Ooh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing (yeah, yeah)
(She love me like she never before, ayy) (burst it)

I sit 90 degrees underneath palm trees
Smokin' beadies as I burn my calories
Brooklyn rooftops become Brooklyn tee-pees
Who that be, enemy, wanna see the death of me
From Hawaii to Hawthorne, I run marathons, like
Buju Banton, I'm a true champion, like
Farakkhan reads his Daily Qu'ran, it's a
Phenomenon, lyrics fast like Ramadan

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
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

Ooh, la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doing our thang
Ooh, la-la-la
It's the natural la that the Refugees bring
Ooh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing
(She love me like she never before, ayy)

Ooh, la-la-la
It's the way that we rock when we're doing our thang
Ooh, la-la-la
It's the natural la that the Refugees bring
Ooh, la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
Sweet thing
(She love me like she never before, ayy)

Yo kid, we gotta get our family together, man
You know, we gotta get organized (hey Junior)
We just can't be out here, you know
Just high and smoked up (Junior!) (what's up?) (come here)
And whatever, we gotta get our stuff organized (what you want?)
Whatever we gon' do, we gon' do it right yo, we need captains in this- (wassup girl, what you want?)