Jean Claude Ades (J.C.A.)

Jean Claude Ades (J.C.A.) - Carribean Connection songtekst

Je score:

[Wyclef] Warning! 

[Big Pun] 

Yo, wanna rumble with Pun hah? 

*loud farting noise* Shit on the whole industry 

Yo who puff more Owls than Pun? Pile on more styles than Pun? 

Who the only one with over a thousand guns? 

Runnin up in niggaz cribs like I paid the bill 

Make you squeal the combination to the safe for wealth 

I lace your grill with the firestarter 

Hit your wife with the ? from the ?shower powers I devour? 

I'm all about the fundamentals, like Pun and pencil 

A piece of paper, a decent caper and someone to strafe you 

My mental's compatible with the radicals 

My oddessey type, qualities allow me to poli' with animals 

Niggaz is canibals and the ghetto's a jungle 

where you either bet all your bundles or struggle on the simple and 

humble 

My niggaz'll rumble with any man for a Benny Fran 

Try to imagine what they can sacrifice for twenty grand 

Niggaz'll slice you and dice you into a thousand pieces 

and pound out we jettin to the ground Uptown 

up in the Boogie Down, ? swallow the team, pile on the green 

Surrounded in green like flowers in Spring 

For now I'm a King, so it's more than money, all the honies 

used to call me Punny cause my fam was always hungry 

But now we rollin lovely, and you feel worse, want my money 

Let your steel burst, cause I'd rather see you in hell first 

Chorus: Wyclef and Pun 

*Wyclef sings something* 

[Pun] I'm selling perrico 

[Clef] Yo what's the deally yo? 

[Pun] I'm Uptown making moves just like Castro 

(repeat all 2X) 

[Wyclef Jean] 

Yo, yo, yo keep the lights keep the camera all I want is the action 

The battle's on, where I roam in composition 

A hardcore crowd, waitin to see, if I break 

like your first time in jail when you got fucked by an inmate 

It'll never happen, I'm on balance like a Libra 

And if I get murdered, Don't Cry For Me Argentina 

Pour me a cup of vodka, bury me next to my father 

In three days, I rise like Christ and still sober 

Now my eyes open, in my hands I got the Gatling 

I'm looking for the guy that sent me to say hi to Satan 

Fists of fury, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry 

I turn Mr. Rogers Neighborhood topsy turvy 

Foes and enemies meaning the same in the dictionary 

This ain't Pictionary, all you see is the cemetary 

Bodies, from World War I and II is there 

You don't want a third war, that's nuclear warfare 

So Big Pun, count the stacks, make it fast 

Illegal money turns legal now we runnin a laundromat 

Your hunchbacked and wack rap is packed in your backpack 

Your better off in D.C. with the mayor smoking crack 

Yo, this ain't a diss, Wyclef bomb threat 

Run out of the building or get blast in your Guess 

Tec for Tec, or we can go text for text, oh 

I forgot, you don't read, so take this hole in your chest - blaow 

Hide the blood, give you the gun, run and hide 

So when the DT shows up, he thought it was a suicide 

Suicide it's a suicide... 

Chorus (fades out) 

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Taal: Engels

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