Wyclef Jean

Wyclef Jean - No Airplay lyrics

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[Wyclef]
 Yo the Brooklyn Bridge is gonna collapse y'know?
 Yo this Wyclef Jean and the ReFugee All-Stars up in here
 Yo what's this I hear about the police in Brooklyn?
 Turn this jam up, yo, yo
 This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
 I want the whole world to hear this joint right here, yo
 This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
 You asked for it buddy, here it comes

 One two, watch out for the man in blue
 Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore
 Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks
 Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
 Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could
 do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin
 *repeat 2X: first time "ah"; second time "once I leave the pen"*

 I'm from a land of black bats, alley rats and cats
 Scratch up my car, set me up for the carjack
 Under pressure, I gotta leave the gat
 Two straps, a total of sixteen caps
 Say something positive? No positivity
 More positivity, more positivity brutality
 Thugs get angry, the violence increase
 You want peace, make Wyclef chief of police
 Riding through the hood, it's the same ol story
 It's either you play ball or you drug dealy dealy
 Standin on the block when the spot get hot
 Guaranteed to get set up, by a crooked cop
 So I'm sittin back, rhymin on instrumentals
 Anything I touch, it turns monumental
 Me and Jerry Wonder, we keep it credible
 for the streets, at the same time, we gotta eat
 When we commercialize it's to enterprise
 We guarantee to sell a hundred mil before we die
 But Jerry is broke, that's the situation
 Nine-seven, it's like no more eviction
 No more war milk, no more government cheese
 Police keep on shootin at our bulletproof Bentley

 Yo this the type of jam that be getting no airplay
 The Brooklyn Bridge about to collapse, apocalypse
 This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
 The ghettoes are fed up, we got the arms in the air

 One two, watch out for the man in blue
 Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore
 Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks
 Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
 Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could
 do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin

 [Manhunt]
 Yo bust this
 Forty caliber, seventeen through your character
 Waterworld's world, underwater, Sub Mariner
 Derringer, twenty-two one in the challenger
 Seven, four-eight, 23rd on the calender
 My word verses, burst raps you rap nervous
 It's worthless, you get smashed up, on the surface
 Projectile, my forty-four style, blood on silver
 The red ripper, fill up the resevoir nigga
 Armageddeon, you smack dead on, a world crisis
 The nicest, for sixteen bars, of preciseness

 [Wyclef]
 One two, watch out for the man in blue
 Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore
 Five six, you're sticking me with nightsticks
 Seven eight, I'm forced to call Canibus
 Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could
 do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole chin

 [Canibus]
 You got a gat nigga, use it, go 'head pull it
 Scientists got raw footage of me dodgin bullets
 I walk the streets with heat, three biscuits
 Outnumberin niggaz twin glocks with triplets
 When I spit shit I lace it, you get punched in face with
 puncutations of five-knuckle phrases
 I assure you the vocalist standin before you
 will destroy you with temperatures hot enough to flamebroil you
 My tongue moves much faster than yours do
 Every three thousand styles I change my voiceboxes oil
 Embarass you in front of your crew to annoy you
 If you know some chicks that suck a good dick, then I'll employ you
 To this hip-hop shit, Canibus stays loyal
 That's why every Killuminati I battle somebody for you
 I'm warnin you, me versus you, I hurt you
 My balance enables me to squaredance in a circle
 Your head'll spin so fast you'll catch whiplash
 I practice lyrical witchcraft on your bitch ass
 Make your hard drive crash to C colon backslash (C:/)
 Go back to the roots and reprogram your wack ass, nigga

 [Wyclef]
 One two, watch out for the man in blue
 Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore
 Five six, you're sticking us with nightsticks
 Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
 Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could
 do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole chin
 Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? (right here, right here)
 A-ight? New Jersey in the house...

 The people versus gestapo, what what
 Yo, there'll be no sequel to this revolution
 There will be no sequel to this revolution
 The people versus gestapo
 There'll be no sequel to this revolution, what what
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Sony Music Entertainment Inc

Details:

Released in: 1998

Language: English

Appearing on: Gone Till November (1997)

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