Wyclef Jean - Where Fugees At? lyrics

Feels good to be back at the
Essence where it all started
You know? What up?
Turn up my headphones, man
I got a few things I wanna
Tell the people out there yo, yo, yo

When I whistle lah, two dogs by my side
Plus a black pistola, loud MCs
Feel the silencer
Y'all still rhyming', y'all cookoo
I send psychos to Bellevue
This ain't a sequel, son
But, I have you "Scream 2" (AHHH)
Real live cinema
The streets produced a junkie
Put back on your shirt, man
You looking like ET
You're cracked out, for dough
Some blow on saxophone
You're rhyming off beat even with
Help from my metronomes
See? Y'all ain't MCs, you a CM
Common Motherfucker rhyming about
Lexus and Benz
The same Benz you got jacked in
Drunk off of Gin you woke up in hell getting
Sexed by Marilyn Manson
You lie? You deny? Pass me the microphone
I guess, like Eddie Murphy
You was giving 'em a ride home
Yeah right, 25 mics, material in The Source
While your rap crew's on steroids
Looking like Full Force
Your girl she's buff, puffed
In daytime don't play rough
The freaks come out at night so that's
When I bring out the cuffs
Grand Marnier, CD player number two
Sade's in my bedroom singing "Sweetest Taboo"

We used to rap
Now y'all wanna come and get me with a bat?
Y'all must be smoking crack with
Pookie from New Jack
How could y'all forget? I'm
The reason y'all MCs
But y'all flip like Pharisees and
Charge me for blasphemy
You know who you are, eight bar superstar
Karabi cars
Buy up the bars with the credit cards
You wanna impress some young
Chick you just met first thing she say
"Ain't you used to roll with Wyclef?!"
Look surprised to see your
Flesh outside your vest?
Yeah, you could fight, in the WWF
'Cause in this arena ain't nothing
But gladiators and haters
Hoping they kill me and roll and
Feed me to the tigers
Oh Lord, protect me from the devil
They open the Book of Life

Y'all reading like the anti-Christ
You weak, kid, stop lying to the public
You wanted it so bad that you
Took all the production credit's
Some MCs in the underground
Mad at me 'cause I'm above ground
Counting English pounds i tell y'all what
Success don't come overnight
I was in Noah's Ark for
Forty days and forty nights
Contemplating, "What should I write?
What should I recite?
Cuz ain't nobody here but thugs
And chicks with ice"
That's when I daydream into the twilight
Girls with they man, screaming "I hate life"
Baby girl, look in the opposite direction
'Cause my class is the "Misedu"

All I hear is Fugee this, Fugee that
Where Fugee at?
I need Fugee spit up on this track
Lauryn, if you're listening, Pras
If you're listening gimme a call
I'm in the lab in the Booga Basement
Y'all know my style, I'm still "mini, money
Mini, mini", it ain't all about the money