Thug Angels

[Intro: Wyclef Jean]
Refugees, yo, all you say

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
Dirty, Dirty, Dirty South
I used to play ball at the YMCA, in LA
Saw my first AK
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
(What about Texas?) They need to chill with the gunplay, hey
(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 singing, saying: "Ha ha ha ha"
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 and the videos?
(To the Jacksonville thug angels) Let me tell you how it really goes

[Verse 1: 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? (Let's go)
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 trooper something:
"Should I slow down and be a good camper?" (Uh-huh)
I heard a young thug scream:
"It depends what you got in the Bimmer!"
Now I got two choices: I could blast him and become most wanted in America
Or I could slow down like the man in the Bronco
And get Johnnie Cochran to be my lawyer
Oh, Sonya, hit her on the Motorola
If I get locked up, I ain't getting out 'til Tuesday
'Cause this a Saturday, and it's a holiday
Now I gotta spend a weekend in the South in jail
But you told me that crime paid in the...

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
Dirty, Dirty, Dirty South
I used to play ball at the YMCA, in LA
Saw my first AK (Uh-huh)
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
What about Brooklyn? (Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo! Bo!)
They need to chill with the gunplay, hey
Police are at the door
The magnum was by the ashtray (New Jersey)
He 'bout to go out like Scarface (Hey)
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
With thug angels singing, saying, "Ha ha ha ha"
So you wan' be a thug?
(My thugs in Chicago) You wan' push drugs?
(My thugs in Orlando) You want the cars and the videos?
(To V-A and D.C., St. Louis, Miami)

[Verse 2: Wyclef Jean]
So you a killer—how many people did you kill?
You a dealer—how many drugs did you deal-uh?
For real-uh, used to sell crack on the hill-uh
Yeah, right! My name is Elvis, and your wife is Priscilla
You're an actor, you need a part in this thriller
Hold up, ain't no need to bust your four-fif'-uh
It's two of us, one of us is bound to leave here in a coma
So say your prayers, and give my regards to the undertaker at the... (Ayyyy)

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
Dirty, Dirty, Dirty South
I used to play ball at the YMCA, in LA
Saw my first AK
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
(What about New Orleans?) They need to chill with the gunplay, hey
(New York City, y'all) Police are at the door
The magnum was by the ashtray
(Look at shorty, dog) He 'bout to go out like Scarface
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
With thug angels singing, saying, "Ha ha ha ha"
So you wan' be a thug?
(To my thugs in Tampa) You wan' push drugs?
(To my thugs in Detroit) You want the cars and the videos?
(To the North, to the South, to the whole Carolina-lina)
Let me tell you how it really goes

[Verse 3: Small World of Norfclk]
The South, the dirtiest
Knew that it's not, you heard it is
Y'all are the prettiest, purtiest cats, never heard of a gat
I'm the crookedest cat, jux-man, I'ma took that (Take that)
Get it, try to get it off, wholesale or cook that (Cook crack)
N***a, I keeps plenty caps that I autograph attach
Huh, smack p***y n****s, they look to the back, huh
You shook of me, you knowing I leave you all bullet-y
I'm real—you like, "How could he be?"
It's like, Roddy Ville, Robin still, y'all better knew some
Act like you want some
I'ma come around the corner, cock back, spot you, and throw some
Most murderous verbalist, hurting, put burners to this
So Wyclef recruited me, Small World from the Norfclk

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean]
Dirty, Dirty, Dirty South
I used to play ball at the YMCA, in LA
Saw my first AK
I saw her man get murdered on Sunday, Bloody Sunday
(What about Uptown?) They need to chill with the gunpla, hey
Police are at the door
The magnum was by the ashtray (Little Haiti, y'all)
He 'bout to go out like Scarface (Jamaica)
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
With thug angels singing, saying, "Ha ha ha ha"
So you wan' be a thug?
(To my thugs in ATL) You wan' push drugs?
(To my thugs living in Dallas) You want the cars and the videos?
(Thug Angels in the Birmingham)
Let me tell you how it really goes, let's go

[Bridge: Wyclef Jean]
Watch out for the beasts
Watch out if you got a seed, homie
'Cause you don't want your kids growing up
Thinkin' they never had no daddy

[Break: Wyclef Jean]
Big Pun, rest in peace, forever
Bronx, pour some liquor, ahh!
Slang Ton, rest in peace (Thug angels)
From the Outsidaz, pour some liquor, ahh! (Let's go)
Police is on the loose
Watch yourself, y'all saw what they did to Diallo
Ain't no pushing
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Get yo' hands out my pocket!
Yo, like I said on my last album
The record's not over yet
Back up, back up, back up

[Skit: Voice & Wyclef Jean]
You nigga better turn music down! I call 911!
You gon' do what?

[Break: Wyclef Jean]
(Woy!) Yo, turn up your musics louder
(Woy!) All my people in the system Jeep
(Woy!) All my people going to school early in the morning
(Woy!) All my people in the college dorms, talk to them

[Bridge: Wyclef Jean]
Grenn zaboka sevi zòriye anba l'acha'w
Aswè-a m'p'ap dòmi—yas! Yas, manman
Grenn zaboka sevi zòriye anba l'acha'w
Aswè-a m'p'ap dòmi—yas! Yas, manman

[Break: Wyclef Jean]
(Woy!) BouleYard
(Woy!) Miami
(Woy!) Ayiti
(Woy!) All my people in the back, let me see your hands up
(Woy!) All my people in the front, let me see your hands up
(Woy!) We ain't gon stop this CD, come on
(Woy!) Yo, I got up my man up in here, all the way from Haiti
(Woy!) He wanna talk to y'all, yo tell em that time is it, yo

[Bridge: Wyclef Jean]
Grenn zaboka sevi zòriye anba l'acha'w
Aswè-a m'p'ap dòmi—yas! Yas, manman
Grenn zaboka sevi zòriye anba l'acha'w
Aswè-a m'p'ap dòmi—yas! Yas, manman

[Outro: Wyclef Jean]
(Woy!) Eastern Parkway
(Woy!) We gon' come see y'all (Come on)
(Woy!) Everybody in the front, let me see those hands up
(Woy!) Aight, on the count of 3, we gon' jump, come on
(Woy!) One! Two!
(Woy!) One! Two! One, two, three, four
(Woy!)