Вершы: Fugees. Bootleg Version. Vocab (Salaam's Remix).
:
[Wyclef]
Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh...
[(Wyclef - Singing) {Wyclef in brackets} Lauryn Singing in parentheses]
Vocab, on your mind! {We used to rock the mics in the park!} (Vocab)
Vocab, in your mind! {We used to rock the mic after dark} (Vocab)
The Vocab we bring is Blunted On Reality! {We used to rock the mics in the
park!}
(Vocab)
So kick back, relax, with a crew called Refugees {We used to rock the mic
after dark} (Vocab)
[Wyclef - Verse One]
Uh to my, people who pass
I pass gas, to light my incense
I do a sundance, for those who died in the ambulance
A simple stick-up, 'cause affects on the wrong lad
Wrong vocab, he fell into the gap, no coming back
Your hurry is he gets buried, the streets are empty
Mom cry "misery"
Little Bill waits for the adversary
'Cause if it's my brother, I gotta get revenge
Action brings reaction, provoked by the street gem
That's when, oh help me, please Zsa Zsa
My niggas come to the dance, gun salute, with the revolver! (BLAOW!!)
Out of respect, you catch wreck, they blast the tech!
If your shit is wack, don't turn your back, you'll get pussy-smacked!
I don't matter the year, tears for fears, I rule the world
And in my vision, the world is science fiction
Roxanne!!! You don't have to work for money no more!!!!
And...I'm not smiling at no fake M.C.'s
'Cause is it me, or do you work for the K.G.B. ?
A-Schiscka Bob, he drives a Dodge, he's a nobody
Nobody's a somebody
This nobody's a spy, kid
He's the rap trader, I'm the battle fulfiller
And if I was Magilla Gorilla, the mic's my Ban-ana
So Coca-Cabana, who Anna on my scanner?
My Grandma slam-a-any crews
Ban, or surrender, Anna!
Refugee Camp, grab him! Bag him!
Throw him in the swamp, and let the swamp monsters have him!
[Chorus 1x] add "Vocab baby, vocab!" -Lauryn
[Prakazrel "Pras"]
Then cast off from here to Mexico!
You see my 4-5-6-a-be my cee-lo!
And when I rest my head it's on a peee-low!
B-D-B-D-B-D-B-B-D-B-BO!
You see the skills I manifest, is very thorough!
And if you don't believe me ask Freres Jacques, hunhh!
A-Freres Jacques! A-Freres Jacques! A dorme vous? A dorme vous?
Say our father, who art in Heaven
Forgive the foolish rapper
For he not know how which he be steppin'
Correctin'
Stopped and kept and, nuff respect to the D.J.
That be selecting, that type of record
Watch out now!!! When I choose to speak
I'm forming the cipher fly east to the five percenter
Knowledge is born, to all beginners
Cast the first stone if you feel you ain't a sinner
After eight stays, we resorted to rebell
I'm packin' up my Nine
To remedy my stale (?)
Ask your local mechanic, he'll tell you my esophagus is very profane!
I'm even locking Stephen King in his own ending!
God damn it! You got static?! Drop your automatic!!!
Niggas fabricating lyrics with cheap fabrics!
All originale damn man is originale, oh! Bah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah!
[Wyclef]
Ahh, look at the youths, sick of the violence
[Chorus 1x]
[Lauryn "L-Boogie" Hill]
The gorey got you hot 'cause you coop what you are!
But I've been rockin' mic's since the days of Babylon!
My pen was eucalyptus, and my rappin' was the scroll
I walked for many moons, and let the sandels jist to my control
You're swole 'cause you couldn't cross the burnin' sands
You never had no mercy when my people was in Egypt's land
Say, "Yes I can!" With the force of Elijah
Steppin' to you, they get irrigated like the Niger
So hide the cattle
Fugees come to battle
We'll take all your bounty, then we'll eat your vittles
I'm used to the type of poetics that mesmerize
I caught you checkin' with them Bette Davis eyes!
Surprise, surprise! You never knew a girl could stylize!
It's from the soul! I ain't freakin' with white lies
Yo, hey guys! Remember the summer of '92?
Battle after battle! Crew after crew!
So, hachoo! Fugees coming with a brand new style!
I'm rollin' with them hoodies from the H-A-I!
It takes awhile for them average niggas to get it
But once they understand they won't want to freak with this, see...
I'm like the phantom
That's flying like the bird
Doin' shit you never heard
Plus I come from the suburbs
Word to God!
I heard ya had it kinda hard
and you got your skin scarred when they was shootin' on the boulevard!
[Chorus 2x]
"Vocab, baby" 14x (Lauryn)
[Wyclef]
Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh...
[(Wyclef - Singing) {Wyclef in brackets} Lauryn Singing in parentheses]
Vocab, on your mind! {We used to rock the mics in the park!} (Vocab)
Vocab, in your mind! {We used to rock the mic after dark} (Vocab)
The Vocab we bring is Blunted On Reality! {We used to rock the mics in the
park!}
(Vocab)
So kick back, relax, with a crew called Refugees {We used to rock the mic
after dark} (Vocab)
[Wyclef - Verse One]
Uh to my, people who pass
I pass gas, to light my incense
I do a sundance, for those who died in the ambulance
A simple stick-up, 'cause affects on the wrong lad
Wrong vocab, he fell into the gap, no coming back
Your hurry is he gets buried, the streets are empty
Mom cry "misery"
Little Bill waits for the adversary
'Cause if it's my brother, I gotta get revenge
Action brings reaction, provoked by the street gem
That's when, oh help me, please Zsa Zsa
My niggas come to the dance, gun salute, with the revolver! (BLAOW!!)
Out of respect, you catch wreck, they blast the tech!
If your shit is wack, don't turn your back, you'll get pussy-smacked!
I don't matter the year, tears for fears, I rule the world
And in my vision, the world is science fiction
Roxanne!!! You don't have to work for money no more!!!!
And...I'm not smiling at no fake M.C.'s
'Cause is it me, or do you work for the K.G.B. ?
A-Schiscka Bob, he drives a Dodge, he's a nobody
Nobody's a somebody
This nobody's a spy, kid
He's the rap trader, I'm the battle fulfiller
And if I was Magilla Gorilla, the mic's my Ban-ana
So Coca-Cabana, who Anna on my scanner?
My Grandma slam-a-any crews
Ban, or surrender, Anna!
Refugee Camp, grab him! Bag him!
Throw him in the swamp, and let the swamp monsters have him!
[Chorus 1x] add "Vocab baby, vocab!" -Lauryn
[Prakazrel "Pras"]
Then cast off from here to Mexico!
You see my 4-5-6-a-be my cee-lo!
And when I rest my head it's on a peee-low!
B-D-B-D-B-D-B-B-D-B-BO!
You see the skills I manifest, is very thorough!
And if you don't believe me ask Freres Jacques, hunhh!
A-Freres Jacques! A-Freres Jacques! A dorme vous? A dorme vous?
Say our father, who art in Heaven
Forgive the foolish rapper
For he not know how which he be steppin'
Correctin'
Stopped and kept and, nuff respect to the D.J.
That be selecting, that type of record
Watch out now!!! When I choose to speak
I'm forming the cipher fly east to the five percenter
Knowledge is born, to all beginners
Cast the first stone if you feel you ain't a sinner
After eight stays, we resorted to rebell
I'm packin' up my Nine
To remedy my stale (?)
Ask your local mechanic, he'll tell you my esophagus is very profane!
I'm even locking Stephen King in his own ending!
God damn it! You got static?! Drop your automatic!!!
Niggas fabricating lyrics with cheap fabrics!
All originale damn man is originale, oh! Bah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah!
[Wyclef]
Ahh, look at the youths, sick of the violence
[Chorus 1x]
[Lauryn "L-Boogie" Hill]
The gorey got you hot 'cause you coop what you are!
But I've been rockin' mic's since the days of Babylon!
My pen was eucalyptus, and my rappin' was the scroll
I walked for many moons, and let the sandels jist to my control
You're swole 'cause you couldn't cross the burnin' sands
You never had no mercy when my people was in Egypt's land
Say, "Yes I can!" With the force of Elijah
Steppin' to you, they get irrigated like the Niger
So hide the cattle
Fugees come to battle
We'll take all your bounty, then we'll eat your vittles
I'm used to the type of poetics that mesmerize
I caught you checkin' with them Bette Davis eyes!
Surprise, surprise! You never knew a girl could stylize!
It's from the soul! I ain't freakin' with white lies
Yo, hey guys! Remember the summer of '92?
Battle after battle! Crew after crew!
So, hachoo! Fugees coming with a brand new style!
I'm rollin' with them hoodies from the H-A-I!
It takes awhile for them average niggas to get it
But once they understand they won't want to freak with this, see...
I'm like the phantom
That's flying like the bird
Doin' shit you never heard
Plus I come from the suburbs
Word to God!
I heard ya had it kinda hard
and you got your skin scarred when they was shootin' on the boulevard!
[Chorus 2x]
"Vocab, baby" 14x (Lauryn)
Bootleg Version
Іншыя выканаўцы