Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Lauryn Hill, Wyclef Jean, Jerome Hinds, Dwayne Battle, John Forte, Rashia Fisher, Don Schlitz, Pras Michel
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The FugeesCowboys Lyrics:
This is the Fugees, outsiders up in here
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side
No the nigger dies
Zen, zen, zen, zen, zen, zen, zen
You shot your bullet, but the bullet when [unverified]
Desperado, do work for new boy
I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy
Wyclef, Pace 1, yo, this was how the West was won
Our motto, a true Desperado, rappers want to be actors
So they play the Jesse James character
And get they bones fractured
You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct
Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton
Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies
Thrown off the building like the Fall Guy
Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave
Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves
Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley
On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey
With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot
Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot
The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder
Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher
If you see him coming, you better start running
Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming
Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash
Yo, let's skip town like Harlem nights
We make moves in stage coaches
Ra Digga likes the roaches if anyone approaches
We be like noches, buenos
And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers
R&B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers
My style is perhaps one of the foulest
I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice
Buckin' at stars and write rhymes for hours
The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours
Bust this scenario, can't no other niggers in the barrio
From Newark to Ontario, bust us when we in stereo
'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles
It's apparent, your no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle
Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets
Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips
Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof
Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof
And for all you head beaters
The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters
While Mamasitas carry real heaters
I rock the Dooby
And L rocks the Nubian twists 96
Muthafuckas gettin' dissed
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side
No, the nigger dies
Yeah, when the out's hooked up with the Refugees
It be more niggas than the N.A.A.C.P.
Comin' up on weed of all type
Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes
(You've got to know when to hold them, know when to fold them)
I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine
Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine
So ooh, aah, achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa
Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne
Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane
Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?
That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain
Smokin' pure from the health food store
While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor
Fuck with out's it's like those Islam brothers
We march through your hood with a million muthafuckas
So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La
When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah
When pandemonium strikes at midnight
Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic on some absurd shit
You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger
Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker
Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor
21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof
And got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'
Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton
You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten
The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana
Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot
Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block
Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'
Gun players regular front page is the bonus
Life will keep existing while I'm shittin' on opponents
Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on opponents
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side
No, the nigger dies
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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