Cowboys

Fugees · Fugees - Greatest Hits [2003]

This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:



[(CHORUS) CLEF:]

Everyone wants to be a cowboy

Grab your guns boy

Forty-five by my side,

No the n***er dies.



[PACE1:]

Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen

You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****

Desperado, do work for new boy

I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy



[WYCLEF:] Wyclef



[PACE1:] [PACE 1]



[WYCLEF:] Yo this was how the West was won,



[PACE1:] Our motto, a true Desperado.



[WYCLEF:]

Rappers want to be actors

So they play the Jesse James Character



[PACE1:] And get they bones fractured.



[PACE1:]

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

Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton



[WYCLEF:]

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



[PACE1:]

Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley

On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey

With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot

Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot



[WYCLEF:]

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.

PACE1: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash



[WYCLEF:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.



[LAURYN:]

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.



[RAH DIGGA:]

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.



[LAURYN:]

Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio

(From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.

Cause me and Rashida rock the battles

It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.



[RAH DIGGA:]

Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets

Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips

Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof

Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.



[LAURYN:]

And for all you head beaters

The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters

While mamasitas carry real heaters.



[RAH DIGGA:]

I rock the Dooby and

L rocks the Nubian twists

96

Muthaf***as gettin' dissed



[CLEF: (Chorus)]

Everyone wants to be a cowboy

Grab your guns boy

Forty-five by my side,

No the n***er dies.



[Young Zee:]

Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees

It be more n***as than the NAACP

Comin' up on weed of all type

Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.



[PRAZ:]

(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.

Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa



[PRAZ:]

F*** 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?"



[Young Zee:]

That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain

Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,

While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor

F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,

We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.

So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La

When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah



[FORTE:]

When pandemonium strikes, at midnight

Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic

On some absurd s**t

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

N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.

Stick and slide with vigor

City streets hot like liquor

21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and

Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'

Your whole style is loose and we gon' 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 while I'm s***tin' on the corners

Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners



[CHORUS: (Clef)]

Everyone wants to be a cowboy

Grab your guns boy

Forty-five by my side,

No the n***er dies.

About Cowboys

"Cowboys" by The Fugees stands as a defining track from their 2003 greatest hits compilation, showcasing the group's signature blend of hip-hop and soulful R&B. Released during the height of their cultural impact, the song reflects the collective's ability to weave political consciousness with melodic warmth, a hallmark of their work on albums like *The Score* and *Blunted on Reality*. Featuring the distinctive vocal harmonies of Pras and Wyclef Jean, the recording captures the essence of the late 1990s and early 2000s East Coast sound, where social commentary met accessible pop sensibilities. The track remains a staple of their discography, illustrating how The Fugees successfully transitioned from the raw energy of *The Score* to a more polished, yet equally potent, musical identity. Its enduring presence in their catalog underscores its role as a representative piece of their broader artistic legacy and influence on contemporary hip-hop.