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 hooters. 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 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 fuck 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 niggas medative Head rushers I give to creative kids and fiends Dreams of euphoria, Aurora, To another galaxy Phallic-sy 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 niggas choke >From the fumes that I emote, Or emit shit 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 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.