Cowboys (Fugees)

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 n***er dies. Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen You shot your bullet, but the bullet when **** Desperado, do work for new boy I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy Wyclef 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. PACE1: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights. We make moves in stage coaches Rah 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 n***ers in the barrio (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo. Cause me and Rashida rock the battles It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle. Watch these rap b***hes 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' n***ers 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 Muthaf***as gettin' dissed Everyone wants to be a cowboy Grab your guns boy Forty-five by my side, No the n***er dies. Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees It be more n***as than the NAACP 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 goldmine. Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa F*** 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 fodd store, While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers, We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as. 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 s**t You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger N***as 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 s***tin' on the corners Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners Everyone wants to be a cowboy Grab your guns boy Forty-five by my side, No the n***er dies.