| Can I get five dollars | |
| So I can get something to eat | |
| HELL NO MOTHER****A | |
| You can't get no money from me | |
| Cause everytime I give you a dollar | |
| You go get shot up with more and more needles | |
| And you tell me that you're drug free | |
| Drug Free | |
| Mista mista | |
| I haven't ate anything for a week | |
| Can I get a quarter? | |
| HELL NO MOTHER****A | |
| What can a quarter get you? | |
| Nothing mother****a | |
| You are just ****ed up | |
| Off them ****ed up drugs | |
| You know you need to leave alone | |
| But you keep telling me that you're drug free | |
| MOTHER****A | |
| You ain't drug free, you're a fiend | |
| And everytime I try to help you | |
| You pretend as if it's okay | |
| Then later on in the week | |
| You go back to shootin' needles, to sniffin' | |
| Oh mf, but you told me you were DRUG FREE | |
| DRUG FREE | |
| You ain't drug free mother****a | |
| So you damn well, can't get no mother****in money from me | |
| [CLEF] | |
| We used to be number 10 | |
| But now we're permanent one | |
| Wyclef, Preacher's Son, Ichi bang, | |
| Listen Mrs. Tin Can | |
| I'm your candy handy man | |
| Me without you is like American without the Band Stand | |
| Cool fellow, dancehall stay mellow, | |
| All that guntalk who would have thought you died yellow | |
| Damn, another hero wannabe | |
| Now he sleeps with his friends in the mortuary | |
| Dude, I find it rude, when you intrude, | |
| My pistol nozzle hits your nasal, | |
| Doo doo comes out your anal | |
| Just because your buff, don't play tuff | |
| Cause I'll reverse the earth and turn your flesh back to dust. | |
| [LAURYN]:CHORUS | |
| Ooooh La La La, | |
| It's the way that we rock when we're doing our ting | |
| Oooh La La La, It's the natural LA that the Refugees Bring | |
| Oooh La La La La La La Lalala La Laaah, Sweeeeet Thing | |
| [FORTE] | |
| I stay high off the Fu-Gee-La | |
| Bust when we rush, | |
| Through you must, know ruckus | |
| Crew got G's like the refu's | |
| So F who | |
| Ever want to test | |
| Bring me stress, | |
| West coast back to east, | |
| Grab my toast when I reach | |
| Truly curvin', swervin, lifestyle is urban, | |
| Sippin' Bourbon, surviving | |
| We real to keep the word when | |
| A boy want fa testthis set | |
| Then you get wet-up | |
| Just a bit to unprepared to to shoot him fair bet | |
| [LAURYN] | |
| Fake bullets can't scar me | |
| I can smell the weak out like safari | |
| Play you out like Atari | |
| Sacrifice you Hari Kari | |
| And I'm sorry, | |
| To every single rapper, Dick and Harry | |
| Saying they want to spar me | |
| Cause how thick my repertoire | |
| And my memoir be | |
| Reminding me of eating Calamari in the Khalahari with a band of | |
| Rhastafari. | |
| Ha Ha Ha Ha, You shouldn't diss refugees, and | |
| Ha Ha Ha Ha, You whole sound set's bootie , and | |
| [LAURYN]:CHORUS | |
| Oooh La La La, It's the way that we rock when we're doing our ting | |
| Oooh La La La, It's the remix sound that the Refugees Bring | |
| Oooh La La La La La La Lalala La Laaah, Sweeeeet Thing | |
| [PRAZ] | |
| I sit 90 degrees underneath palm trees, | |
| Sitting in the cool breeze in the West Indies | |
| Flea to sea, Ship my keys | |
| On the Santa Maria, sip Sangria with senoritas | |
| (They keep telling me this and telling me that) | |
| They smile in my face then they talk behind my back | |
| But what they lack is the facts about my stats | |
| My rap impact will kill you softly like Roberta Flack | |
| [CLEF] 2X | |
| Ayo, What's goin' on | |
| Armageddon come you know we soon done | |
| Gun by my side just in case I gotta rump | |
| A boy on the side of Babylon, | |
| Trying to front like he's down with | |
| Mount Zion. |
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