Correction Lyrics Cowboys by Fugees

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Lyrics

This is the Fugees
Outsidaz up in here

Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
.45 by my side, do he live?
No, the nigga die!

Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot your bullet, but the bullet went...
"Desperado", new word for "rudeboy"
I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy
Wyclef, Pace Won, yo this was how the West was won
Our motto, a true desperado
Rappers want to be actors
So they play the Jesse James call-up-card
And get they bones fractured
You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct
Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton
Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies
Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy
Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave
Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves
Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley
On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey
With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot
Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot
The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder
Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (Gimme that!)
If you see him coming, you better start running
Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming
Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash
Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights

Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
.45 by my side, do he live?
No, the nigga die!

We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches
If anyone approaches, we be like noches, buenos
And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers
R&amp;B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers
My style is perhaps one of the foulest
I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice
(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours
The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours
Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio
From North to Ontario, bust us when we in stereo
Cause me and Rashida rock the battles
It's apparent you're no talent, cause you're blazin' in your saddle
Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets
Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips
Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof
Burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof
And for all you head beaters
The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters
While mamacitas carry real heaters
I rock the Dooby and L rocks the Nubian twists
9-6, motherfuckers gettin' dissed

Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
.45 by my side, do he live?
No, the nigga die!

Yeah, when the Outs hooked up with the Refugees
It be more niggas than the NAACP
Comin' up on weed of all type
Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes
You've got to know when to hold them
Know when to fold them
I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine
Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine
So ooh-ahh-ahh-chi-ka
Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa
Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne
Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane
Yeah me and that kid, um "What's his name?"
That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain
Smokin' pure from the health food store
While my whore slap cocks like Zsa Zsa Gabor
Fuck with Outs it's like those Islam brothers
We march through your hood with a million muthafuckas
So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La
When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-Blah

When pandemonium strikes, at midnight
Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic on some absurd shit
You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger
Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker
Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor
21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and
Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'
Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton
You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten
The bounty on your head, says your dead by mañana
Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot
Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block
Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'
Gun players regular front page is the bonus
Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on opponents
Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on opponents

Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
.45 by my side, do he live?
No, the nigga die!

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