Fugees Zealots Lyrics

Zealots Lyrics

[CLEF:]

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord 

I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why 

O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa 



[CLEF:]

I haunt MC's like Mephistophales 

Bringin swords and Damacles 

Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy 

Abstract raps simple with a street format 

Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax. 

Check out the retrograde motion, kill the notion 

Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation. 

I Feel like Rockwell, "Somebody's watching me" 

I got no privacy whether on land or at sea. 

And for you biting zealots, your raps are cacophonic 

Hypocrite, critic, but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit. 

It hurts don't it, the refugees come to your turf and take over the earth. 



[INTERLUDE (Lauryn):]

See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes 

That can only get down with my crew 

And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes 

We'll show you how the refugees do. 



[LAURYN:]

Behold, as my odes, manifold on your rhymes 

Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time. 

It's against the laws of Physics. 

So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics 

Rap rejects my tape deck, ejects projectile 

Whether jew or gentile 

I rank top percentile, 

Many styles, 

More powerful than gamma rays 

My grammar pays, 

Like Carlos Sanatana plays 

Black Magic Woman 

So while you fuming, I'm consuming 

Mango juice under Polaris, 

You're just embarrassed 

Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris" 

And even after all my logic and my theory, 

I add a muthaf**ker so you ignint niggas hear me. 

And you remember take notes, 

As I sow my rap otas 

And for you biting zealots, here's a quote. 



[Chorus (CLEF):]

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord 

I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why 

O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa 



[CLEF:]

You can try but you can't divide the tribe 

These cats can't rap, Mr. Author I feel no Vibe 

The magazine says the girl should have gone solo, 

The guys should stop rapping, vanish like Menudo. 

Took it to the heart, but every actor plays his part 

As long as someone was listening, I knew it was a start, 

For me to get a chance, grab my pen and revamp 

Do a cameo while everybody do the dance. 

Quick now, cause you runnin' out of lucka 

Playin' Mr. Big, I'm gonna get you sucka. 

While you munchin at your luncheon, I'll be planning your assassination 

Then hit you like the Dutchmen 



[PRAZ:]

I compress sound sets with my rap DBX 

Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX 

Bring terror to the shop of horror, 

As she cries "Mi amor" 

The phantom dies in the opera 

And to the youngin's who carry gadgets 

And kill 6 days a week then on a sabbath. 

Violence ain't necessary, unless you provoke me 

Then get buried like the great Mussolini 

And for you bitin' Zealots 

Your rap styles are relics 

No matter who you damage 

You're still a false prophet. 



[Chorus (CLEF):]

Another MC lose his life tonight, lord 

I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ, why 

O lord, father don't let him bury me, whoa