The Ecleftic * 2 Sides II A Book

Intro:
Y'all know y'all done messed up now right?
Mmmm mmmm, fo' real
[opera singing]
You know, you messed up, I'm not laughing
All y'all beats is soundin the same, y'all rhymin the same
Some of y'all even wearing the same jewelry
And y'all doin the same videos
Shut up, you know you messed up right?
That's why they brought me back in this game
To bring it right back to the essence, mmm hmmm
Oh yeah, and all this kill this, kill that, kill this
Lemme tell you somethin, [what, what]
The real killers, they're standin right over there
Waitin for you to act like a killer, so they can kill you
Yo Sedeck, do me a favor yo
Yo tell everybody on this side of the stage
To just move back a little cuz it's about to get real rowdy
in the front yo, they comin yo
I could never forget the underground hip hop
I'ma dedicate this to everybody that knew me when I was broke
Workin at Burger King, hustlin dime bags on a twelve speed bicycle
All the projects man, youknowwhatimsayin?
Yo

HOOK:
Every time I keep pullin out, y'all keep pullin me in, sin
Kick a little somethin for the New Jerusalem
Let people know you aint forget where you came from, where you came from
Every time I keep pullin out, y'all keep pullin me in, sin
Kick a little somethin for the street DJs
Let people know you aint forget where you came from, where you came from

[Verse 1]
Yo, yo this probably the hardest verse that I ever recite
I'm in the studio with a gun in my neck it's all right
Surrounded by gangsters, I don't know how they got here
But I feel like the Haitian Frank Sinatra, in his young years
New York, on my way to Kennedy airport
L.A., I was told wear colors wherever you walk
Dirt, dirty south, I heard they run up in your house
Shakespeare, no time to jive blast your girl through the blouse
What? MCs, y'all aint nothing but assassins
Every two lines is killin, or incarceration
Murderation, closed casket cremation
Closest you got to prison was seein barson television
But I'ma go long as this thug phenomenon
Pass me a bandanna, two shots from my Mag-num
All of that, to get your attention
Here's a few things I been dyin to mention
Anyone talk about guns, I'ma buy the cartel
Any more beats soundin the same, I'ma put your MPC to cell
Listen, reminiscing on Nas, *It Aint Hard To Tell*
Still feel like somebody's watching me like Rockwell
Talk about diamonds, I'ma kidnap Jacob
Talk about the Fugees, I'ma break up the make up
Put your stake up, I'm about to work my way back to the streets
And y'all wanna bootleg cuz y'all will get Jay-Z

HOOK [variations]
Kick a little something for the projects Clef
Kick a little something for the hip hop fans

[Verse 2]
Hip hop fans, y'all like the woman in my house
No matter how faithful I am, y'all still have your doubts
Talkin bout, is he real in this relationship
Or did he go pop, and on the side get a mistress
My mistress is a guitar, classical like Mozart
Paint murder on the wall just to show y'all some art
And y'all wanna start, and lose body parts
I suggest you start walkin, tell your man stop talking
You know the scenario, the innocent is always the first to go
And Dorothy sings somewhere over the rainbow
Kum Ba Ya, got you trapped in barbed wire
Dope delivery, but I'm the ghost writer
Tall tribes of Juda, deeper than books
Watch what you cook cuz you might get hooked
Man... I miss real MCs
Like Kool G Rap, written in graffiti
Before the plane, I used to take the train
Watch fiends puttin up they vein, moms raisin caine
Able's on the roof, cook like a goose
To calm my nerve, I drink Vodka 180 proof
I'm back in the shack, lay flat on my back
Two choices, sell rap or sell crack
Chose sell rap, but watch my back like I'm sellin crack
Cuz the music industry is the same street format
I sold y'all Nappy Heads, to The Score, to The Carnival
But yet y'all still wanted more
Since Sedeck went back, came off wit a break
I blend so perfect, that you would want it for your mixtape

[beatbox]

HOOK [variations]
Kick a little something for the brothers up north

f/ Mary J. Blige

[Wyclef]
Yo, what up, this Wyclef with Mary J.
I serenade the girls with my accoustic guitar
You know what I'm sayin'?
Yo, fellas havin' problems with the chicks?
I want you right now to turn the lights down low
Pull your girl up next to you
I want you to sing this to her

If death comes for me tonight, girl
I want you to know that I love you
And no matter how tough I wouldn't dare
Only to you I would reveal my tears
So tell the police I ain't home tonight
Messin' around with you is gonna get me life
But when I look into your eyes
You're worth that sacrafice
If this is the kind of love that my mom used to warn me about
Man, I'm in trouble
I'm in real big trouble
If this is the kind of love that the old folks used to warn me about
Man, I'm in trouble
I'm in real big trouble
I need y'all to do me a favor

Someone please call 911
Tell them I just been shot down
And the bullet's in my heart
And it's piercing through my soul
Feel my body gettin' cold
Somone please call 911
The alleged assalaint
Is my lover
And she shot me through my soul
Feel my body gettin' cold

[Mary J. Blige]
So cold
Sometimes I feel like I'm a prisoner
I think I'm trapped here for a while
And every breath I fight to take
Is as hard as these four walls I wanna break
I told the cops you wasn't here tonight
Messin' around with me is gonna get you life
Oh yeah, yeah
But everytime I look into your eyes
Then it's worth the sacrifice

[Wyclef]
If this is the kind of love that your mom used to warn you about
Man, we are in trouble
You're in real big trouble
If this is the kind of love that the old folks used to warn me about
I'm in trouble
I'm in real big trouble
You got anything to say, girl?

[Mary J. Blige]
Someone please call 911
Tell them I just got shot down
And it's piercing through my soul
Feel my body getting cold

[Wyclef]
Someone please call 911
The alleged assalaint
Was my lover
And she shot me through my soul
Feel my body getting cold

Wyclef and Mary J. Blige
I know you're feeling me, girl
I know you understand

INTRO:
Uh huh, uh huh
Feels good to be back at the essence where it all started you know
Uh huh, uh huh
What up
Uh huh, uh huh
Turn up my headphones man, uh huh uh huh
I got a few things I wanna tell the people out there
Yo, yo, yo

HOOK:
All I hear is Fugee this, Fugee that
Where Fugee At? I need Fugees to spit up on this track
Lauryn if you're listenin, Pras if you're listenin
Gimme a call I'm in the lab in the Booga Basement
Y'all know my style, I'm still *mini, money, mini, mini,
It aint all about the money*

[Verse 1]
When I was hustla, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs, feel the silencer
Y'all still rhymin, y'all cuckoo, I send cycles to Belvue
This aint a sequel son, but I have you 'Scream 2' [AHHH!]
Real live cinema of the streets produced a junkie
Put back on your shirt man you lookin like ET
You're cracked out, for dough, some blow on saxophone
You're rhymin off beat even with help from my metronomes
See, y'all aint MCs, you a CM
Common Motherfucker rhymin about Lexus and Benz
The same Benz you got jacked in, drunk off of Gin
You woke up in hell gettin sexed by Marilyn Manson
You lie, you deny, pass me the microphone
I guess like Eddie Murphy you was givin 'em a ride home
Yeah right, 25 mics, material in The Source
While your rap crew's on steroids lookin like Full Force
Your girl she's buffed, puffed, in daytime don't play rough
The freaks come out at night so that's when I bring out the cuffs
Grandma yell, CD player number two
Shadae's in my bedroom singin 'sweetest taboo'

HOOK

[Verse 2]
We used to rap, now y'all wanna come and get me with a bat?
Y'all must be smokin crack, with Pookie from New Jack
How could y'all forget, I'm the reason y'all MC
But y'all flip like Pharisees and charge me for blasphemy
You know who you are, eight bar superstar
Karate cars, buy up the bars with the credit cards
You wanna impress, I'm young chick, you just met
First thing she say, 'I used to run with Wyclef'
Look surprised, see your flesh outside your vest
Yeah you could fight, in the WWF
Cuz in this arena aint nothin but gladiators and haters
Hopin they kill me and roll and feed me to the tigers
Oh Lord, protect me from the devil
They open the book of life, y'all readin like the anti christ
Your weak kid, stop lyin to the public
You wanted it so bad that you took all the production credits
Some MCs in the underground, mad at me cuz I'm above ground
Counting English pounds
I tell ya what, success don't come overnight
I was in Noah's Ark for Forty days and Forty nights
Contemplatin what should I write, what should I recite
Cuz aint nobody here but thugs and chicks wit ice
That's when I daydream into the twilight
Girls wit they man, screamin 'I hate life'
Baby girl look in the opposite direction
Cuz my class is the *Misedu...*

HOOK

Intro:
Let um feel the beat first
I'm bout to come through your stereo
Should my rhyme start with the hook
Start with the hook


To my people who don't wanna go to work
Thank God it's Friday
Cover me she bout to put up her skirt
Thank God it's Friday
Do Your mom now you act so berserk
Thank God it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track girl?
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday
(I wanna thank my hood)

Verse 1:
For makin me a star before I had fast cars
And couldn't tell the difference between Whoppers and caviar
Before the fame
Way before things changed
All I wanted to do was freestyle and get a name
I used to work at the fast food restaurant
For minimum wage
Dreamin I'm on stage
At 17 I left the house
Cause my father was a minister
And I didn't want the Marvin route
What's goin on?
Today to sell a song you need a video with soft porn
MC's in the industry
You wanna tip?
Don't let them pimp you like Goldy
And tell Sony they better have my money
Cause I play wit the Comodores and be like Lionel Richie
Low Income, I stay so hungry that if 50 Cent came to rob me
He'd be part of my charity
(I wanna thank my hood)


To my people cuttin here in the shops
Thank God it's Friday
To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops
Yo, it's Friday
To my people that don't got no job
Everyday it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track yo?
She don't wanna, she don't wanna work on Monday
All the Ladies sing

Ladies:
I don't feel
Like cookin you no breakfast
This mornin
(Wyclef: All my hoodlums say)

Guys:
You don't have
To cook me breakfast
Cause your girlfriend will
After you leave
(I wanna thank my hood)

Verse 2:

For the love of money
I know kids who'll slit your throat
Friday the 13th
Jason wit a trench coat
But you can't scare Suzie
Cause her man got so many uzi's you'd think he was Cadivi
Meanwhile, she's getting her nails done
Crystal clear so they could shine like wit diamonds
It's such a shame what happened last week
Man they found her under the sheets with a letter from the Son of Sam
It said to tell New York I ain't sleepin
You want to be clubbin then you better pack your heat in
And to my man G Swar Rest in Piece
I still poor liquor
1 draw on the cocoa leaf
Inhale, exhale smoke grasses
Polices in the area, but ain't no need to panic
You wit Wyclef you getting in
If not, then we gonna make CNN
(I wanna thank my hood)

To my people who don't wanna go to work
Thank God it's Friday
Cover me she bout to put up her skirt
Thank God it's Friday
Do your mom know you act so berserk?
Thank God it's Friday
What's the track, what's the track girl?
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday
Yo, to my people cuttin here in the shops
Thank God it's Friday
To the thugs sweatin up in the chop shops
Yo, it's Friday
To my people who don't got no job
Everyday it's Firday
What's the track, what's the track yo?
She don't wanna she don't wanna work on Monday
All the Ladies sing

Ladies:
I don't feel
Like cookin you no breakfast
This mornin
(Wyclef: All my hoodlums say)

Guys:
You don't have
To cook me breakfast
Cause your girlfriend will
After you leave

Guitar Solo

(Daddy, play that guitar)

Refugees yo.. all you say

[Wyclef Jean]
Dirty Dirty Dirty South
I used to play while at the YMCA, in L.A.
Sold my first A-K
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
(What about Texas?) They need to chill with the gun play
(New York city y'all) Police are at the door
the Magnum was by the ashtray
(Look at shorty y'all) He bout to go out like Scarface
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
with Thug Angels singin, sayin

[background harmonizing - repeat 2X]
{uh-huhhh uh-huhhh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahhhh-ahhh-ahhh-
-uhhh-huhhh uh-huhhh..}

[Wyclef Jean] - (over harmonizing)
So you wanna be a thug?
To all my thugs in Houston, you wan' push drugs?
To all my thugs in Memphis, you want the cars in the videos?
To the Jacksonville Thug Angels, let me tell you how it really goes

[Wyclef Jean]
I'm on the highway with a black bandana, headed to Atlanta
Until I heard WOOP WOOP, that "Sound of Da Police", should I pull over?
He had the dark shades on, but he ain't look like Stevie Wonder
His face was, pale and long - he looked like cold day in December
Now let me ask the truth or somethin -
should I slow down and be a good camper?
I heard a young thug scream,
"It depends what you got in the beamer!!"
Now I got two choices I could blast and become Most Wanted in America
Or I could slow down like the man in the Bronco
and get Johnny Cochran to be my lawyer
Ohh Sonya, hit her on the Motorola
If I get locked up I ain't getting out 'til Tuesday
Cause this is Saturday, and it's a holiday
Now I got to spend a week hangin in the South in jail
but you told me that crime pay

[Wyclef Jean]
The Dirty Dirty Dirty South
I used to play while at the YMCA, in L.A.
Sold my first A-K
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
(What about Brooklyn?) They need to chill with the gun play
(Hey) Police are at the door
the Magnum was by the ashtray
(New Jersey) He bout to go out like Scarface
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
with Thug Angels singin, sayin

[background harmonizing - repeat 2X]
{uh-huhhh uh-huhhh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahhhh-ahhh-ahhh-
-uhhh-huhhh uh-huhhh..}

[Wyclef Jean] - (over harmonizing)
So you wanna be a thug?
My thugs in Chicago, you wan' push drugs?
My thugs in Orlando, you want the cars in the videos?
To V-A and D.C., St. Louis, Miami

[Wyclef Jean]
So you a killer, how many people did you kill?
You a dealer, how many drugs did you deal-a?
For'realla, used to sell crack on the hill-a
Yeah right! My name is Elvis and your wife is Pricilla
You're an ACTOR, you need a part in this thrilla
Hold up, ain't no nead to bust your four-fifth-a
It's two of use, one of use is bound to leave in a coma
So say your prayers, and give my regards to the undertaker

[Wyclef Jean]
At the Dirty Dirty Dirty South
I used to play while at the YMCA, in L.A.
Sold my first A-K
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
(What about New Orleans?) They need to chill with the gun play
(New York City y'all) Police are at the door
the Magnum was by the ashtray
(Look at shorty y'all) He bout to go out like Scarface
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
with Thug Angels singin, sayin

[background harmonizing - repeat 4X]
{uh-huhhh uh-huhhh, ahh-ahh-ahh-ahhhh-ahhh-ahhh-
-uhhh-huhhh uh-huhhh..}

[Wyclef Jean] - (over harmonizing)
So you wanna be a thug?
To my thugs in Tampa, you wan' push drugs?
To my thugs in Detroit, you want the cars in the videos?
To the North, to the South, to the whole Carolina-lina
Let me tell you how it really goes
So you wanna be a thug?
To my thugs in A-T-L, you wan' push drugs?
To my thugs livin in Dallas, you want the cars in the videos?
Thug Angels in the Birmingham
Let me tell you how it really goes, let's go!

[Wyclef - with voice box effect]
Watch out, for the beasts
Watch out, if you got a seed homie
cause you don't want your kids growin up
thinkin they never had no daddy

Big Pun, rest in peace forever
Bronx, pour some liqour, AHHH
Slang Tom, rest in peace
Police is in the news, watch yourself
Y'all saw what they did to Diallo

[some man complaining]
Yeah you betta turn music down! I call 911!

[Wyclef Jean]
You gon' do WHAT?
WAIT! Yo turn up your musics louder
WAIT! All my people in the system Jeep
WAIT! All my people goin to school early in the mornin
WAIT! Eastern Parkway

[Haitian singing to end]

HOOK:
However you want it, you don't want it, cuz when you get it it hurts
Your body carried out the church
Mom, she be cryin holdin on to her purse sayin... (oh my baby!)
They shoulda took me first
However you want it, you don't want it, cuz when you get it it hurts
Your body carried out the church
Mom, she be cryin holdin on to her purse sayin... (oh...)

[Verse 1]
Aiyyo
What y'all thought I was too busy writin songs with Whitney Houston
Cuz *My Love's your Love* will be my slugs wit blood
For any thug that wanna bang and play orangutang
Find yourself in the river with the rest of them
Wake up, wake up, I'm in a nightmare dream
Where I found myself loadin magazines after magazines
Ski mask on my face, gun on my waist
Fine pens shakin in my hand as I write this next line
You look strange, shootin victims at close range
And saw his vein burst from his neck, as I snatched his chain
Is this a Bible, I used to read the Gospel
Until I got betrayed by one of my twelve disciples
Which one, look through the crowd son
You could spot the traitor wit a tatto on his arm
The symbol is a microphone, an intellectual
A wannabe Rakim, but too extraterrestrial
I heard he's lethal and I'm too rusty to battle him
Me being rusty is like Biggie not being *Born Again*
It never happen, watch who you call fam
On MTV, he painted himself as the tin man
Predicted platinum, way before it happened
So that's why when you ship gold, you only sold aluminum

And now you wanna tell everybody I messed up your record?
C'mon!

HOOK

[Verse 2]
You a thug? You aint a murderer, just an undercover caligula
Cuz when you saw the luger became silent like Caesar
Enough of this rap stuff, Sedeck take his watch
If I wasn't rappin, I'd take that stash in your left socks
Don't make me raise my voice cuz I'm masterin a coo
So, and besides when they find you you'll be bones
Mom say watch my peers, hangin like chandeliers
Orderin Don P, you couldn't pay for one beer
Perpetratin, a fraud, oh god, you aint hard
Take thirty of y'all to murder one kid on the boulevard
You want Wyclef Jean, bring your same thug guys
Here's my advice, leave the ring with your bride
Cuz you aint comin back no more
We gon send you to a vacation for two, with crabs on the seashore
You freeze up, hold up I really thought you was psychotic
Is that tears in your eyes? You cryin for your life
Kid you tellin me what you did, you didn't wanna do
Watch what you say on record cuz it might come true

HOOK

Outro:
Should I take them? Should I wait?
Should I take them? Should I wait?
Should I take them? Should I wait?
I say *No Woman, No Cry* like I should own a piece of the estate
But at the tribute they didn't invite me
So I put in a call to Halis Alassi
He said be easy, aint no need to bust a shot (BLOW! BLOW! BLOW! BLOW!)
Like Supercat said, yo the ghetto's red hot
Before bling, bling, bling it was BLING, BLING, BLING!