- 歌詞
- 專輯列表
- 歌手介紹
Fugees
-
Fu-Gee-La - Album Version
We used to be number 10, now we're permanent one
In the battle lost my finger, Mic became my arm
Pistol nozzle hits your nasal, blood becomes lukewarm
Tell the woman be easy, Naah squeeze the Charmin
Test Wyclef, see death flesh get scorned
Beat you so bad make you feel like you ain't wanna be born
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 you're 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, what's going 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 L.A.
That the refugees bring
Oh, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, lah
Sweet thing
Yeah, in saloons we drink Boone's and battle goons till 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
Odd-ly 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
更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網
And ha, ha, ha, ha, you whole sound set's bootie
And ha, ha, ha, ha, you have to respect Jersey
'Cause I'm super fly 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 L.A.
That the refugees bring
Oh, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, lah
Sweet thing
I sit 90 degrees underneath palm trees
Smokin' beadies as I burn my calories
Brooklyn roof tops become Brooklyn tee-pees
Who that be, enemies, 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
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 L.A.
That the refugees bring
Oh, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, lah
Sweet thing
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 L.A.
That the refugees bring
Oh, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, lah
Sweet thing
-
|
