Wyclef Jean - Hollyhood To Hollywood Lyrics

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Blame blame blame whose that with you again?

(The ride the ride)

Yes black where's my jewels at?

(Uptown)

Yo let's get back to the hardcore right now

Underground hip-hop yo

This one's a gangsta tune whassup Fosha?

I'm a send this one out to all the refugee gangs around the world

Signal signal y'all need to chill with the driveby's

It was the Fourth of July I heard the cherry bomb bang

Stay in the house that's the sound of the gangs Clef

By the time we figured out what happened

I was in an ambulance tellin' my cousin "Keep breathing"

Don't wear your colors here that cemetery gear

I got my gun and nine killing's my appetite

(But that ain't right y'all)

Don't wear your colors here that cemetery gear

(California California)

I got my gun and nine from Hollywood to your neck of the hood

(True true)

Yo Hollywood got a lot of kids twisted

Jumpin' in and out of limos thinkin' it's them that's really gifted

The only gift y'all possess is workin' with the triple six's

Y'all disguise yourself with bandannas and diamond necklaces

Mosta y'all can't even go back to the hood where y'all grew up

Actin' like y'all drink alcohol when all y'all do is throw up

Talk about when y'all blow up y'all gonna visit the project floors

But the last time they saw y'all was 1984

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Source - http://www.kovideo.net/hollyhood-to-hollywood-lyrics-wyclef-jean-805254.html

Now y'all wonder why they got all hoodies screamin' "Freeze"

Get out the Navigator Godfather 3's in the DVD they hoppin'

They take your car for a spin it's cold outside so all you feel is the wind

There's no celly phone so you can't phone home

Oh lord here come those criminals Maleeg and Jerome

("Yo who you know here you got family over here?")

He a rap artist

("I don't care he got the wrong colors over here no fear")

Now you look shook like that Mobb Deep song

I'm surprised 'cause on all y'all records you was Al Capone

And come to find out that you never held a chrome

And you escaped the draft and never bust a shot in Vietnam

Now you standin' in the form amongst the children of the corn

Like the Son of Man stood with a crown made of thorns

The only difference is for you there'll be no resurrection

'Cause it's a traffic jam they got you locked up in a intersection

Don't wear your colors here that cemetery gear

(Colors)

I got my gun and nine killing's my appetite

(But that ain't right y'all)

Don't wear your colors here

(Colors)

That cemetery gear

(Chicago Chicago)

I got my gun and nine from Hollywood to your neck of the hood

Yo Hollywood has half-man be hollow to you

How could you have slipped through

While I was detecting the trick that's in you

Pretending you pitbull when really your candy-ass is poodle

We wouldn't of hit you hammers have already been

Cocked and cleaned yo it was who?

It's click-up click-up north cackus commence to stick up

That's what's within us cack and lack clap buck killers quicker

Stick up the forest misters then head up to chickens with 'em

Adrenaline's givin' when I riff with the fifth to your chin-in

You never knew bout how we play these innings

But you about to play the commission

Waves are spinning I'm out the glaze I'm shing

The real is missing but the fraud is evident ever so clear

But you got the nerd to come around here with pounds of fear

Your colors wrong you must rock edible dons with that huh?

Damn Paul what's that huh? Let me get that with the quick snatch

If it's a little man in you then I better put the trick back

And if it's anything killers is fearing I know my clip stacked for realer

Don't wear your colors here that cemetery gear

(Colors)

I got my gun and nine killing's my appetite

(But that ain't right y'all)

Don't wear your colors here

(Colors)

That cemetery gear

(Detroit Detroit)

I got my gun and nine from Hollywood to your neck of the hood

Tell the FBI that I won't be home tonight

Tell the Secret Service I won't be home tonight

Colors put away your colors woh colors

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