Masquerade Wyclef Jean (Ft. Freddie Foxxx & M.O.P.)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Masquerade" by Wyclef Jean (Ft. Freddie Foxxx & M.O.P.). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Wyclef] (Billy Danze)
The streets is mad right now (Tell 'em why we mad!)
Rappers, whatever you call yourselves pack your bags and get outta town
(Get outta town! Get out!)
Cause I'mma strike down on thee with great vengeance and furious anger
Those who attempt to poison the hood
I'mma let y'all know the preacher's son is back! (Waiya!)
Uh, Refugees
One time, M.O.P. (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
Two times, uh, Bumpy Knuckles (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
Now the world is in trouble, come on (Oh, oh)
Yo, you're number one on the charts! (You're a masquerade!)
Paying for your Billboard slots! (You're a masquerade!)
Because the block knows hot! (You're a masquerade!)
You're livin' in a, you're livin in a (Masquerade!)
I'm on first so: this ain't a rap verse it's more like a voodoo curse
So when you die, the kids'll throw rocks at your hearse
Cause you lie too much - you ain't got no gat at your arms reach
Just aimed it at your headpiece now you pissin' in your briefs
Hold up! We just saw you on your BET, your MTV
Your public access channel talkin' bout "I'm a thug!"
You're an animal, a cannibal, you even scared Hannibal
But when the blackout came, no lights for your candles
So welcome to the real world where a spade is a spade
And I'mma call it like I see it and ya'll livin in a masquerade
Even though Jacob iced you out with the baguette
Money with no respect, that makes you a suspect
So you can't ride through Brownsville
You wan't peace, you better call Churchill
If not, feel 'Clef when he connects with M.O.P. family
And plays guitar at your eulogy
The streets is mad right now (Tell 'em why we mad!)
Rappers, whatever you call yourselves pack your bags and get outta town
(Get outta town! Get out!)
Cause I'mma strike down on thee with great vengeance and furious anger
Those who attempt to poison the hood
I'mma let y'all know the preacher's son is back! (Waiya!)
Uh, Refugees
One time, M.O.P. (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
Two times, uh, Bumpy Knuckles (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
Now the world is in trouble, come on (Oh, oh)
Yo, you're number one on the charts! (You're a masquerade!)
Paying for your Billboard slots! (You're a masquerade!)
Because the block knows hot! (You're a masquerade!)
You're livin' in a, you're livin in a (Masquerade!)
I'm on first so: this ain't a rap verse it's more like a voodoo curse
So when you die, the kids'll throw rocks at your hearse
Cause you lie too much - you ain't got no gat at your arms reach
Just aimed it at your headpiece now you pissin' in your briefs
Hold up! We just saw you on your BET, your MTV
Your public access channel talkin' bout "I'm a thug!"
You're an animal, a cannibal, you even scared Hannibal
But when the blackout came, no lights for your candles
So welcome to the real world where a spade is a spade
And I'mma call it like I see it and ya'll livin in a masquerade
Even though Jacob iced you out with the baguette
Money with no respect, that makes you a suspect
So you can't ride through Brownsville
You wan't peace, you better call Churchill
If not, feel 'Clef when he connects with M.O.P. family
And plays guitar at your eulogy
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