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(Intro: Wyclef Jean) Yo´, check it out, I want all the refugees out there to just put up your motherfuckin´ hands, you know you´re a fuckin´ immigrant Put up your hands youknowhatI´msayin´? I´ma start this shit off like this, this time around (Chorus: Wyclef Jean) H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side Fugees on the mic, yeah, yeah Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah (Wyclef Jean) If you wanna snap (SNAP), if you wanna crack (CRACK) If you wanna shoot, give me a second so I can lay flat Cause this, some the cemetary´s, the reality Where the tough guys get buried in their property Word to Sampson, the tone will get you hung I had a friend, they murdered his father and his three-year-old son I heard him cursin´ the essence of the, the (PAUSE) committed the crime But ah, murder got no time The country has no law, it´s either rich or poor I´m out the back door, I got nuttin´ to fight for I´m sailin´ on a boat like a goat - I clear my throat When I got to Brooklyn, I was broke, so I selled coke I look in through microscope, for my country and the hurt My eyes bleed, I see Aaron Steed, the Haitian Pope Figure or Dundee, the-riginal Malcom X Swing like the ki´s, so should I put on David Tomerfest Though I´m humberlicious strugglin´ to jump let me blow her upper-her bubble in your face - that´cha ego! Aiyyo, freeze-funk, you got to stay stable Watch out for the devil, he comes after you after the revival When will he come, what will he do, what will he say? That´s all a mystery, but have your hand grenade so you can blow the motherfucker away Beep, beep, I gotta make a sale so I can eat So Praswell, grab the mic and be complete (Pras) Huh, lovin´ the wreck in effect, will be all in checkmate Another style for Praswell to translate For those who can´t relate to stay down my - no-man wait No mistake, when I tell you, your prophet is a fake (Wyclef Jean) You said a contract on a Haitian, three-hundred g´s Your sharpshooters are lousy, we mend to-high-be-high hoodies So show your face-a when you waste, I know who´s smokin´ The bigger that you try to put out yours just makes me Mr. Nobody Take high wit´cha just right, it´ll be like Michael get ordered, a viper you know!! Yeah, a viper cause you might lose a life to the side by like what did I have to in the line of the barkin´ of the bright side You tried to scare me but I won´t mover-a The bully of the block becomes the hour of the glock So cuckoo!! The sounds I run are rollin´ with the bodyguard But don´t forget the day it´s sunny but it´ll be foggy And in the funeral, you´ll be singin´ a new tune May your soul rest on the moon (?Jack in wood spoon!!?) In Channel Seven, you said: "Death before Cut" You killed so many that your conscience ended up - whattup? (WHAT!!) Aiyyo black men, you´re dyin´ by a dozen cousin So all I do is walk away yo´ Prince as if nothin´ happened You call me a punk, I gotta step cause all you did was flex But don´t get closer cause the kid still gotta keep his rep See I´m known for the crew like the jewel was the jewel Like the follow got the boo, like the miller got the boo Let the fool cop the man-jewel, suck up, up the ?cool-lew? Oh why you got the ha-ha-lew-lew? I got the rap loose, so sci-bi-dee-bob-bob, you don´t stop You do the rap-rap, from hip-hop to be-bop, from be-bop to beep-beep, the Haitian kid, beeper´s goin´ off beep-beep I gotta make a sale so I can eat, beep, beep The Haitian kid, beeper´s goin´ off, you know I got no time to sleep, so beep-beep (Chorus: Wyclef Jean) H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I Live or die, it´s nothin´ but a dark side Fugees on the mic, YEAH!! Yo´, refugees on the mic, oh yeah, oh yeah (Pras) Man, I went to cops the other day to plead for my innocence They brought me in another charges of a legal residents And L-E-N, on a foreign land, a ???? Watch me go back to my land and then there will be a thing Gorillas in the mist, where everything, and the light becomes a priest They put up they guard, they pump up they fists Now I´m number one on they motherfuckin´ hit-list... Goin´ down for first degree of manslaughter Makin´ change out of emcee´s makin´ them outta quarters That´s they value, that´s what they worth Cause the first shall be last and the last shall be first, yeah What we learned was to burn, now cause you c-came with that machette, it´s your turn It´s not funny, but twenty a month is what you earn baby (We on to the Yankee, pass the mic to the "Yankee") (Lauryn Hill) Well I´m as cool to ya the mic I´m checkin´ comin´ from my temple With a message, to deliver, but the back is very simple I´m the girl "Yankee" rollin´ wit´ the kids from Haiti coolin´ as a mighty grab who gets the last laugh hahaha... You bite size with my Haitian from they stinks as my "Yankee" wonderin´ who was the first to pull over girl as soon as it came out son My history - a hypocrite, so what we gonna do? The dope is dope is only get the man since that is true So hip-hip with my lip as I rip with a felt tip with a righteous situation, interpretation, a graduation Your ventilation, and education, segregation, emancipation a capitalization, it´s agration, not separation, ya breath the Haitians... H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I...

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