[Wyclef]

Yo the Brooklyn Bridge is gonna collapse y'know?

Yo this Wyclef Jean and the ReFugee All-Stars up in here

Yo what's this I hear about the police in Brooklyn?

Turn this jam up, yo, yo

This the type of jam that be getting no airplay

I want the whole world to hear this joint right here, yo

This the type of jam that be getting no airplay

You asked for it buddy, here it comes



One two, watch out for the man in blue

Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore

Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks

Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight

Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could

do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin

*repeat 2X: first time "ah"; second time "once I leave the pen"*



I'm from a land of black bats, alley rats and cats

Scratch up my car, set me up for the carjack

Under pressure, I gotta leave the gat

Two straps, a total of sixteen caps

Say something positive? No positivity

More positivity, more positivity brutality

Thugs get angry, the violence increase

You want peace, make Wyclef chief of police

Riding through the hood, it's the same ol story

It's either you play ball or you drug dealy dealy

Standin on the block when the spot get hot

Guaranteed to get set up, by a crooked cop

So I'm sittin back, rhymin on instrumentals

Anything I touch, it turns monumental

Me and Jerry Wonder, we keep it credible

for the streets, at the same time, we gotta eat

When we commercialize it's to enterprise

We guarantee to sell a hundred mil before we die

But Jerry is broke, that's the situation

Nine-seven, it's like no more eviction

No more war milk, no more government cheese

Police keep on shootin at our bulletproof Bentley



Yo this the type of jam that be getting no airplay

The Brooklyn Bridge about to collapse, apocalypse

This the type of jam that be getting no airplay

The ghettoes are fed up, we got the arms in the air



One two, watch out for the man in blue

Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore

Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks

Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight

Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could

do it all again, I'd probably bust your chin



[Manhunt]

Yo bust this

Forty caliber, seventeen through your character

Waterworld's world, underwater, Sub Mariner

Derringer, twenty-two one in the challenger

Seven, four-eight, 23rd on the calender

My word verses, burst raps you rap nervous

It's worthless, you get smashed up, on the surface

Projectile, my forty-four style, blood on silver

The red ripper, fill up the resevoir nigga

Armageddeon, you smack dead on, a world crisis

The nicest, for sixteen bars, of preciseness



[Wyclef]

One two, watch out for the man in blue

Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore

Five six, you're sticking me with nightsticks

Seven eight, I'm forced to call Canibus

Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could

do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole chin



[Canibus]

You got a gat nigga, use it, go 'head pull it

Scientists got raw footage of me dodgin bullets

I walk the streets with heat, three biscuits

Outnumberin niggaz twin glocks with triplets

When I spit shit I lace it, you get punched in face with

puncutations of five-knuckle phrases

I assure you the vocalist standin before you

will destroy you with temperatures hot enough to flamebroil you

My tongue moves much faster than yours do

Every three thousand styles I change my voiceboxes oil

Embarass you in front of your crew to annoy you

If you know some chicks that suck a good dick, then I'll employ you

To this hip-hop shit, Canibus stays loyal

That's why every Killuminati I battle somebody for you

I'm warnin you, me versus you, I hurt you

My balance enables me to squaredance in a circle

Your head'll spin so fast you'll catch whiplash

I practice lyrical witchcraft on your bitch ass

Make your hard drive crash to C colon backslash (C:/)

Go back to the roots and reprogram your wack ass, nigga



[Wyclef]

One two, watch out for the man in blue

Three four, I keep it raw and hardcore

Five six, you're sticking us with nightsticks

Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight

Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if I could

do it all again, I'd probably bust your whole chin

Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at? (right here, right here)

A-ight? New Jersey in the house...



The people versus gestapo, what what

Yo, there'll be no sequel to this revolution

There will be no sequel to this revolution

The people versus gestapo

There'll be no sequel to this revolution, what what