Radio Record Свежаки Trap 2014 - The Fugees - Ready or Not (Whiiite Remix) | Текст песни

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• Radio Record Свежаки Trap 2014 - The Fugees
• Ready or Not (Whiiite Remix)

Ready Or Not (оригинал The Fugees)
[Chorus: Lauryn Hill]
Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide,
Gon' find you and take it slowly.
Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide,
Gonna find you and make you want me.

[Verse 1: Wyclef Jean]
Now that I escape, sleepwalker awake,
Those who could relate know the world ain't cake,
Jail bars ain't golden gates,
Those who fake, they break,
When they meet their 400-pound mate,
If I could rule the world,
Everyone would have a gun in the ghetto of course,
When giddyupin' on their horse.
I kick a rhyme drinkin' moonshine,
I pour a sip on the concrete for the deceased,
But, no, don't weep, Wyclef's in a state of sleep,
Thinkin' ‘bout the robbery that I did last week,
Money in the bag, banker looked like a drag,
I wanna play with pellet guns from here to Baghdad.
Gun blast, think fast, I think I'm hit,
My girl pinched my hips to see if I still exist,
I think not, I'll send a letter to my friends,
A born again hooligan only to be king again.

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Lauryn Hill]
I play my enemies like a game of chess, where I rest
No stress, if you don't smoke sess, lest,
I must confess, my destiny's manifest,
In some Gore-Tex and sweats I make treks like I'm homeless.
Rap orgies with Porgy and Bess,
Capture your bounty like Elliot Ness, yes!
Bless you if you represent the Fu,
But I'll hex you with some witches' brew
If you're doo-doo, voodoo.
I can do what you do, easy, believe me,
Frontin' niggas give me heebie-jeebies,
So while you imitatin' Al Capone, I'll be Nina Simone,
And defecatin' on your microphone.

[Chorus]

[Bridge: Lauryn Hill]
You can't run away
From these styles I got, oh, baby, hey, baby,
‘Cause I got a lot, oh yeah!
And anywhere you go
My whole crew gonna know, oh, baby, hey, baby,
You can't hide from the block, oh no!

[Verse 3: Pras]
Ready or not, refugees takin' over,
The Buffalo soldier, dreadlock Rasta,
On the twelfth hour fly by in my bomber,
Crews run for cover, now they under, pushin' up flowers.
Superfly, true lies, do or die,
Toss me high, only puff lye
With my crew from lakay.
I refugee from Guantanamo Bay,
Dance around the border like I'm Cassius Clay.


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