*More Info For Lyrics* Old School Hip-Hop. Chur [CLEF:] We used to be number 10 Now we’re permanent one, In the battle lost my finger, Mic became my arm Pistol nozzle hits your nasal, blood becomes lukewarm Tell the woman be easy Naah squeeze the Charmin Test Wyclef, see death flesh get scorned. Beat you so bad make you feel like you ain’t wanna be born And tell your friends stay the hell out of my lawn. Chicken George became Dead George stealin’ chickens from my farm. Damn, Another dead pigeon If your mafiosos then I’m bringin’ on Haitian Sicilians Nobody’s shootin’, my body’s made of hand grenade Girl bled to death while she was tongue-kissing a razor blade. That sounds sick maybe one eday I’ll write a horror Blackula comes to the ghetto, jacks an ACURA Stevie Wonder sees Crack Babies Be-Coming Enemies of their own families. What’s going on? Armageddon come you know we soon done Gun by my side just in case I gotta rump A boy on the side of Babylon, trying to front like he’s down with Mount Zion. [CHORUS (Lauryn):] Oooh La La La, It’s the way that we rock when we’re doing our thang Oooh La La La, It’s the natural LA that the Refugees Bring Oooh La La La La La La Lalala La Laaah, Sweeeeet Thing [LAURYN:] Yeah in saloons we drink Boone’s and battle goons till high noon, Bust rap toons on flat spoons, take no shorts like poon poon’s. See hoochies pop coochies, for Gucci’s and Lucci Find me in my Mitsubishi, eatin’ sushi, bumpin’ Fugees. Hey Hey Hey Try to take the crew and …