Cowboys – English Lyrics

• By: Fugees
• Album: The Score

Lyrics & Translation

[English]

(crowd murmuring)

(whip cracking)

♪ Yeah, that's the Fugees ♪ ♪ Ahh, yeah ♪

♪ Outsidaz in here. ♪

♪ This happens on the block every day ♪

♪ So, you wanna be a cowboy? ♪

♪ Everybody, get your guns ♪

♪ And meet me in the back right now. ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Everyone wants to be a cowboy ♪

♪ Grab your gun boys ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Forty-five by my side, do he live ♪

♪ No the (whip cracking) dies ♪

♪ Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen ♪

♪ You shot your bullet, but the bullet went ♪

♪ Desperado, do work for new boy ♪

♪ I pull out my gun and plug two like trugoy ♪

♪ Wyclef ♪

♪ Pace 1 ♪

♪ Yo this was how the west was won ♪

♪ Our motto, a true desperado ♪

♪ Rappers want to be actors ♪

♪ So they play the Jesse James character ♪

♪ And get they bones fractured ♪

♪ You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct ♪

♪ Inside tough 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 (whip cracking) ♪

♪ Wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey ♪

♪ With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot ♪

♪ Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot ♪

♪ The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder ♪

♪ Sundance kid is the everyday purse snatcher ♪

♪ 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 ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Everyone wants to be a cowboy ♪

♪ Grab your guns boy ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Forty-five by my side, do he live ♪

♪ No the (whip cracking) dies ♪

♪ 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&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 (whip cracking) in the barrio ♪

♪ From Newark to Ontario, ♪

♪ Bust us when we in stereo ♪

♪ Cause me and Rashida rock the battles ♪

♪ It's apparent, your no talent ♪

♪ Cause your blazin' in your saddle ♪

♪ Watch these rap (whip cracking) get all up in your pockets ♪

♪ Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips ♪

♪ Cause props is up, (person screams) through the roof ♪

♪ Burnin' like I'm 90 proof ♪

♪ And for all you head beaters ♪

♪ The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters ♪

♪ While mamasitas carry real heaters ♪

♪ I rock the dooby and ♪

♪ L rocks the Nubian twists 96 ♪

♪ Mother (whip cracking) gettin' dissed ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Everyone wants to be a cowboy ♪

♪ Grab your gun boys ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Forty-five by my side, do he live ♪

♪ No the (whip cracking) dies ♪

♪ Yeah, when the out's hooked up with the refugees ♪

♪ It be more (person screams) 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 oh ah achiga, mamase mamasa mamakusa ♪

♪ (person screams) 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 slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor ♪

♪ Up with out's it's like those Islam brothers ♪

♪ We march through your hood ♪

♪ With a million mother (whip cracking) ♪

♪ 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 ♪

♪ Hits full moon splits soft in a lunatic ♪

♪ On some absurd (whip cracking) ♪

♪ You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger ♪

♪ Those who take your measurements quick, ♪

♪ Don't make it quicker ♪

♪ Stick and slide with vigor ♪

♪ City streets hot like liquor ♪

♪ 21 gun saluting, shootin' from the roof and ♪

♪ Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight ♪

♪ You claim you movin' ♪

♪ Your whole style is loose and we goin' ♪

♪ Sew it like it's cotton ♪

♪ You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten ♪

♪ The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana ♪

♪ 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 ♪

♪ As I'm (whip cracking) on the corners ♪

♪ Life will keep existing ♪

♪ As I'm (whip cracking) on the corners ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Everyone wants to be a cowboy ♪

♪ Grab your gun boys ♪

♪ Oh-lay-hee ♪

♪ Forty-five by my side, do he live ♪

♪ No the (whip cracking) dies ♪

♪ Cowboys ♪

(music fades out)

(crowd cheers)