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PrasPras 

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Pras

Praskazrel Samuel Michel, known as Pras, (/ˈprɑːz/; born October 19, 1972) is a two-time Grammy-winning American rapper, best known as one of the founding members of the critically acclaimed hip hop group, the Fugees, which included fellow cousin, international recording artist Wyclef Jean and recording artist Lauryn Hill. more »

Year:

1998

500 Views

Playlists:

#3

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(Intro: Mack 10)
Yo, Mack 10 (dirty cash, Reptile)
It's always good to have a little change 
in your life ain't that right Pras? (That's right baby)
Yo, hahaha that's right well let me run it, check it 

(Mack 10)
We do things and hood bangers, g's as we are 
Well even Mack can do a bar with a Refugee All-star
Pras dance round the border like he Cassius Clay
While I press round the hood with a big AK
Stay fresh and unpredictable, they thought they knew me 
They say; how can a thug from Cali bust with a Fugee?
Cause I write and make... ignite, easy on the treble
Now turn the bass up and check my Mic level
As I get down, let mama peekin, but ain't speakin
I guess a gang-bang thug... got baby tweakin 
Said your outfit is tight, it's my favorite color Red
And plus your little black... is cute with your dreads
Bet you ain't never had a nigga that roll a six-fo
Hit a switch and then hop into a six double-o
You know, street niggas make the game twice as nice 
So add a little spice and put a thug in your life

(Chorus w/variations)
Weeeeeee...
We got dirty cash for weed yeah, yeah
Something for the streets, for all my thugs and freaks yeah, yeah
You, oooo, you
You better get up of your...
From a hooter, Alcatraz 
Ain't no tellin where you might get blast yeah, yeah

(Pras)
Yes, yes why'all (yes why'all) it's dirty cash why'all (cash why'all)
From the East to the West I manifest why'all
Doin interviews with Harper Bazaar, how bizarre
You're sit back smokin big Cuban cigars 
Yo, fly guys want getting jackin and fly cars 
If it's up to me, you'll get blast when the hole pars
Thus far, no one can spar with my little troth
from the flat bush I'll rip why'all and bust your show to Crenshaw
Flowin with Pras and some splash down to Jamaica
Meet you at the shock bar, Alas se enica
Place your bet yo pay your debt 
You cats with the fake crepes, I'll bust you with my Twin-Tack
For talkin out the side of your neck, aiyyo check
We can showdown and lowdown when I'm sunset 
Make your move cowboy this ain't Hollywood 
You got the business's in the hood, INGLEWOOD!

(Chorus w/variations)
Weeeeeee...
We got dirty cash for weed yeah, yeah
Something for the streets, for all my thugs and freaks yeah, yeah
You, oooo, you
You better get up of your...
From a hooter, Alcatraz 
Ain't no tellin where you might get blast yeah, yeah

(Reptile)
Would wise in ninety dance hall, bounce to this 
Hip-hoppers with the dress, smoke an ounce to this 
I spin hits, lyrically swift, speakin of business 
Reptile, formerly know, Jersey delinquent
Nasty son of a gun, give up the funds 
We come down hard like hundred-twenty tons 
Refugee Camp, pumpin out the thousand watt amps 
Created more than the monster like the Loch Ness
All hell's about to break when I'm loose 
Tacklin, like Gorilla Monsoon naggin you like Mom Dukes
And get a haircut; we put you niggas in a bear hug
I dare thugs, tellin niggas do it like ?Nike Air? slugs 
Take a death dive into the wilderness 
We got you feelin this, to the point your man want to kill us 
But we ain't laughin, we blackin, rushin, attackin 
Loaded with dirty cash and a Mack 10 (*echoes*)

(Chorus w/variations)
Weeeeeee...
We got dirty cash for weed yeah, yeah
Something for the streets, for all my thugs and freaks yeah, yeah
You, oooo, you
You better get up of your...
From a hooter, Alcatraz 
Ain't no tellin where you might get blast yeah, yeah

(Outro: Reptile)
Come on, come on, blow the smoke in the air
And puff, puff like you just don't care 
Come on, come on, blow the smoke in the air
And puff, puff like you just don't care
Yeah what, what, blow the smoke in the air
And puff, puff like you just don't care
I said blow the smoke (blow the smoke)
Blow the smoke and puff, puff like you just don't care

(Pras)
Uh, yeah, yeah, party people

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