The Score lyrics

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FUGEES lyrics : "The Score"

Look into the rhyme
Rum to the ripple

Sing boo,
But at times I come in triple.
Blaow, blaow put the heater to your head

Now your dead.
Wyclef don't give a *beep* if your dead.
Raaaaah, raaaah

Let me attack just like the black cat
You in the wrong neighborhood, check the map.
Hooo, you've got to go for backup

To do what you gotta do.
So you'll be back with France CU
Traitor in your crew is mafo heat

Put the poison in your tea
and kill the toad, But I'll be back with the centipede
I'm on some new technique, drunken bamboo

Awoo hoo a hoo, I'm taking all crews what.
Competition, stimulation for the rap man
Losers check your tooters

While I'm suckin' on your girls h******.
Don't play macho, while you got the gun
Cause if you got to reload . . .

Wyclef the multi-talented

Average heads can't handle it
I'll bring it to you live
Only if you want it.

Me and my guitar go back like the days of the RMC's
(C'mon check out my melody)
The W-Y-C-L-E-F, Wyclef

Through any contest
I'm victorious
Still keep it real, if you will and manifest

Through your skills, not by how many shells you peel.


I'm a bring down the ruckus
Play the nutcracker
Rough-neck rednecks make me no bother

Time after time, ask Cyndi Lauper,
Boss, you don't want to f**k with my partners
Motion, commotion, what's your proposal

Uphold two-fold, the crew is disposal
Like utensil, false idental,
I autograph my lyrics with a number 2 pencil

I'm the L, Won't you pull it

Straight to the head
With the speed of a bullet
Cuttin' jokers off at the meeky-freeky gullet

Lyrical sedative, keep ^!$$%s medative
Head rushers I give to creative kids and fiends
Dreams of euphoria,

To another galaxy

Be this microphone, but get lifted
Lyrically I'm gifted
Burn on in without the roach clip (it)

Henders, mind-bender
Pleasure sender,
So frequently your nerve endings belong to me

Wrongfully you put me down not receiving the full capacity of my smoke
Wack ^!$$%s choke
From the fumes that I emote,

Or emit s***
See even I feel the mahogany L
Natural hallucinogen

Turning boys to men again
With estrogen dreams
Release blues, yellows and greens

From Brownsville to Queens

I creep like a theif, no doubt the man's swift
I'm more magnificent than Lee Van Cliff

You stand stiff and got the nerve to let your man riff
(We know where to run)
And start flakin' like dandruff.
C'mon son my steelo's tight
Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic

On the right, analytical conceptions
With precision and leave lyrical incisions.

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Thanks to guest

Writer(s): Pras Michel, Wyclef Jean, Lauryn Hill, Dennis James Coffey
Copyright: Huss-zwingli Publishing Inc., Interior Music Corp., Obverse Creation Music Inc., Sony/ATV Tunes LLC, Tete San Ko Publishing Inc.
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