Fugees - Refugees on the Mic (remix) lyrics

(Intro: Wyclef Jean) Yo', check it out, I want all the refugees out there To just put up your motherf**in' hands, you know you're a f**in' immigrant Put up your hands youknowhatI'msayin'? I'ma start this sh** off like this, this time around (Chorus: Wyclef Jean) H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I Live or die, it's nothin' but a dark side Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah Yo', refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I Live or die, it's nothin' but a dark side Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah Yo', 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 flat Cause this, some the cemetary's, the reality Where the tough guys get buried in their property Word to Sampson, the tone will get you hung I had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old son I heard him cursin' the essence of the, the (PAUSE) committed the crime But ah, murder got no time The country has no law, it's either rich or poor I'm out the back door, I got nuttin' to fight for I'm sailin' on a boat like a goat - I clear my throat When I got to Brooklyn, I was broke, so I selled coke I look in through microscope, for my country and the hurt My eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian Pope Figure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom X Swing like the ki's, so should I put on David Tomerfest Though I'm humberlicious strugglin' to jump Let me blow her upper-her bubble in your face - that'cha ego! Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stable Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival When will he come, what will he do, what will he say? That's all a mystery, but have your hand grenade So you can blow the motherf**er away Beep, beep, I gotta make a sale so I can eat So Praswell, grab the mic and be complete (Pras) Huh, lovin' the wreck in effect, will be all in checkmate Another style for Praswell to translate For those who can't relate to stay down my - no-man wait No mistake, when I tell you, your prophet is a fake (Wyclef Jean) You said a contract on a Haitian, three-hundred g's Your sharpshooters are lousy, we mend to-high-be-high hoodies So 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. Nobody Take 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 like What did I have to in the line of the barkin' of the bright side You tried to scare me but I won't mover-a The bully of the block becomes the hour of the Glock So cuckoo!! The sounds I run are rollin' with the bodyguard But don't forget the day it's sunny but it'll be foggy And in the funeral, you'll be singin' a new tune May your soul rest on the moon (?Jack in wood spoon!!?) In Channel Seven, you said: "d**h before Cut" You k**ed so many that your conscience ended up - whattup? (WHAT!!) Aiyyo black men, you're dyin' by a dozen cousin So all I do is walk away yo' Prince as if nothin' happened You call me a punk, I gotta step cause all you did was flex But don't get closer cause the kid still gotta keep his rep See I'm known for the crew like the j**el was the j**el Like the follow got the boo, like the miller got the boo Let the fool cop the man-j**el, s** 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 stop You do the rap-rap, from hip-hop to be-bop, from be-bop To beep-beep, the Haitian kid, beeper's goin' off beep-beep I gotta make a sale so I can eat, beep, beep The 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-I Live or die, it's nothin' but a dark side Fugees 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 innocence They brought me in another charges of a legal residents And L-E-N, on a foreign land, a ???? Watch me go back to my land and then there will be a thing Gorillas in the mist, where everything, and the light becomes a priest They put up they guard, they pump up they fists Now I'm number one on they motherf**in' hit-list... Goin' down for first degree of manslaughter Makin' change out of emcee's makin' them outta quarters That's they value, that's what they worth Cause the first shall be last and the last shall be first, yeah What we learned was to burn, now cause you c-came With that machette, it's your turn It's not funny, but twenty a month is what you earn baby (We on to the Yankee, pa** the mic to the "Yankee") (Lauryn Hill) Well I'm as cool to ya the mic I'm checkin' comin' from my temple With a message, to deliver, but the back is very simple I'm the girl "Yankee" rollin' wit' the kids from Haiti Coolin' 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 son My history - a hypocrite, so what we gonna do? The dope is dope is only get the man since that is true So hip-hip with my lip as I rip with a felt tip With a righteous situation, interpretation, a graduation Your ventilation, and education, segregation, emancipation A capitalization, it's agration, not separation, ya breath the Haitians... H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I...