[{"id":18397038,"name":"COWBOYS","trackName":"COWBOYS","artistName":"FUGEES","albumName":"FUGEES   THE SCORE","duration":323.5066624,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\nOutsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\nSo, you wanna be a cowboy?\nEverybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\nZen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet went\nDesperado, new word for rudeboy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true desperado\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James call-up card\nAnd get they bones fractured\n\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\nWoman cry, woman cry, son still dies\nThrown off the building like The Fall Guy\nCaved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\nPlayin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\nWho's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\nYo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\nThen I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\nFrom North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n\n'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\nDigga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\nAnd for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\nThe cheaters, soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamacitas carry real heaters\nI rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\nNine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n\nWhen the Outs hooked up with the refugees\nIt be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\nComin' up on weed of all types\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\nYou've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\nKnow when to fold 'em\n\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\nSo ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\nMama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\nFuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n\nSmokin' pure from the health food store\nWhile my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\nSo let's get high off the fu-gee-la\nWhen the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\nFull moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\nGun play is regular, front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\nLife will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n\nYo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\nNo need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\nIt's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\nLast night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\nAnd when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\nNo, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\nBlood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\nMother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n\nTomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\nYou know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\nThat's how it always is\nWe cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n[00:02.24] Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n[00:04.60] So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n[00:07.24] Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n[00:10.70] Oh-lay-hee\n[00:12.63] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n[00:16.04] Oh-lay-hee\n[00:17.75] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n[00:24.22] You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n[00:26.36] Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n[00:29.59] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:31.96] Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n[00:35.60] Our motto, a true desperado\n[00:37.77] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.26] So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n[00:41.49] And get they bones fractured\n[00:42.75] You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n[00:45.13] Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:48.12] Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n[00:50.88] Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n[00:53.58] Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n[00:56.24] Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.96] Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.15] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n[01:04.64] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.91] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.26] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.11] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n[01:15.37] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.43] Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.39] Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.32] Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n[01:25.44] Oh-lay-hee\n[01:27.32] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n[01:30.72] Oh-lay-hee\n[01:32.46] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n[01:35.16] We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:38.45] If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n[01:41.61] Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:44.17] R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.72] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.50] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n[01:52.14] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:54.62] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n[01:56.88] Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n[01:59.90] From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n[02:03.40] 'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:05.31] It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.33] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.72] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:14.20] 'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\n[02:15.60] Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n[02:17.96] And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n[02:20.36] The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.05] While mamacitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.22] I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n[02:27.18] Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n[02:29.41] Oh-lay-hee\n[02:31.32] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n[02:34.84] Oh-lay-hee\n[02:36.75] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n[02:40.01] When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n[02:42.26] It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n[02:45.99] Comin' up on weed of all types\n[02:48.24] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n[02:50.46] You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n[02:53.86] Know when to fold 'em\n[02:55.60] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:58.72] Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n[03:01.47] So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n[03:03.98] Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n[03:06.95] Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.26] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:11.81] Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n[03:15.07] That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n[03:17.84] Smokin' pure from the health food store\n[03:20.00] While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:23.17] Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.36] We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n[03:28.53] So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n[03:30.61] When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n[03:33.46] When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n[03:35.62] Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n[03:38.97] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.51] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.26] Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.68] 21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.69] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.07] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:55.11] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.53] The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n[03:59.92] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n[04:03.12] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:04.89] Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n[04:08.10] Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n[04:10.85] Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n[04:13.66] Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n[04:16.05] Oh-lay-hee\n[04:17.95] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n[04:21.49] Oh-lay-hee\n[04:23.23] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n[04:29.70] \n[04:48.63] Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n[04:51.64] You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n[04:54.29] No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n[04:56.63] It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n[04:59.51] Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n[05:03.53] And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n[05:05.93] No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n[05:08.98] Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n[05:11.17] Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n[05:13.75] Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n[05:16.79] You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n[05:18.93] That's how it always is\n[05:20.27] We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n[05:23.07] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: COWBOYS\n  artist: FUGEES\n  album: FUGEES   THE SCORE\n  duration_ms: 323507\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 2240\n- text: Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n  start_ms: 2240\n  end_ms: 4600\n- text: So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 4600\n  end_ms: 7240\n- text: Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n  start_ms: 7240\n  end_ms: 10700\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 10700\n  end_ms: 12630\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  start_ms: 12630\n  end_ms: 16040\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 16040\n  end_ms: 17750\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n  start_ms: 17750\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24220\n- text: You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n  start_ms: 24220\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 29590\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29590\n  end_ms: 31960\n- text: Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 31960\n  end_ms: 35600\n- text: Our motto, a true desperado\n  start_ms: 35600\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39260\n- text: So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n  start_ms: 39260\n  end_ms: 41490\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41490\n  end_ms: 42750\n- text: You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 42750\n  end_ms: 45130\n- text: Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45130\n  end_ms: 48120\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n  start_ms: 48120\n  end_ms: 50880\n- text: Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n  start_ms: 50880\n  end_ms: 53580\n- text: Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n  start_ms: 53580\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58960\n- text: Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58960\n  end_ms: 61150\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n  start_ms: 61150\n  end_ms: 64640\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 64640\n  end_ms: 66910\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66910\n  end_ms: 69260\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69260\n  end_ms: 72110\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n  start_ms: 72110\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 77430\n- text: Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77430\n  end_ms: 80390\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80390\n  end_ms: 83320\n- text: Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n  start_ms: 83320\n  end_ms: 85440\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 85440\n  end_ms: 87320\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  start_ms: 87320\n  end_ms: 90720\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 90720\n  end_ms: 92460\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n  start_ms: 92460\n  end_ms: 95160\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 95160\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104170\n- text: R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 104170\n  end_ms: 106720\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106720\n  end_ms: 109500\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n  start_ms: 109500\n  end_ms: 112140\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112140\n  end_ms: 114620\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n  start_ms: 114620\n  end_ms: 116880\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n  start_ms: 116880\n  end_ms: 119900\n- text: From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 119900\n  end_ms: 123400\n- text: '''Cause me and Rashida rock the battles'\n  start_ms: 123400\n  end_ms: 125310\n- text: It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n  start_ms: 125310\n  end_ms: 128330\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128330\n  end_ms: 130720\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130720\n  end_ms: 134200\n- text: '''Cause props is up (Rah Digga)'\n  start_ms: 134200\n  end_ms: 135600\n- text: Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 135600\n  end_ms: 137960\n- text: And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n  start_ms: 137960\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 142050\n- text: While mamacitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142050\n  end_ms: 144220\n- text: I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n  start_ms: 144220\n  end_ms: 147180\n- text: Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 147180\n  end_ms: 149410\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 149410\n  end_ms: 151320\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  start_ms: 151320\n  end_ms: 154840\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 154840\n  end_ms: 156750\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n  start_ms: 156750\n  end_ms: 160010\n- text: When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n  start_ms: 160010\n  end_ms: 162260\n- text: It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n  start_ms: 162260\n  end_ms: 165990\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all types\n  start_ms: 165990\n  end_ms: 168240\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n  start_ms: 168240\n  end_ms: 170460\n- text: You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 170460\n  end_ms: 173860\n- text: Know when to fold 'em\n  start_ms: 173860\n  end_ms: 175600\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 175600\n  end_ms: 178720\n- text: Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n  start_ms: 178720\n  end_ms: 181470\n- text: So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n  start_ms: 181470\n  end_ms: 183980\n- text: Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n  start_ms: 183980\n  end_ms: 186950\n- text: Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 186950\n  end_ms: 189260\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189260\n  end_ms: 191810\n- text: Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n  start_ms: 191810\n  end_ms: 195070\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n  start_ms: 195070\n  end_ms: 197840\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health food store\n  start_ms: 197840\n  end_ms: 200000\n- text: While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 200000\n  end_ms: 203170\n- text: Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 203170\n  end_ms: 205360\n- text: We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 205360\n  end_ms: 208530\n- text: So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n  start_ms: 208530\n  end_ms: 210610\n- text: When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n  start_ms: 210610\n  end_ms: 213460\n- text: When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n  start_ms: 213460\n  end_ms: 215620\n- text: Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 215620\n  end_ms: 218970\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 218970\n  end_ms: 221510\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221510\n  end_ms: 224260\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 224260\n  end_ms: 226680\n- text: 21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226680\n  end_ms: 229690\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229690\n  end_ms: 232070\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232070\n  end_ms: 235110\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 235110\n  end_ms: 237530\n- text: The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n  start_ms: 237530\n  end_ms: 239920\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n  start_ms: 239920\n  end_ms: 243120\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243120\n  end_ms: 244890\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 244890\n  end_ms: 248100\n- text: Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248100\n  end_ms: 250850\n- text: Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  start_ms: 250850\n  end_ms: 253660\n- text: Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  start_ms: 253660\n  end_ms: 256050\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 256050\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 261490\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 261490\n  end_ms: 263230\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n  start_ms: 263230\n  end_ms: 269700\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269700\n  end_ms: 288630\n- text: Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 288630\n  end_ms: 291640\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n  start_ms: 291640\n  end_ms: 294290\n- text: No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n  start_ms: 294290\n  end_ms: 296630\n- text: It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n  start_ms: 296630\n  end_ms: 299510\n- text: Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n  start_ms: 299510\n  end_ms: 303530\n- text: And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n  start_ms: 303530\n  end_ms: 305930\n- text: No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n  start_ms: 305930\n  end_ms: 308980\n- text: Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n  start_ms: 308980\n  end_ms: 311170\n- text: Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n  start_ms: 311170\n  end_ms: 313750\n- text: Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n  start_ms: 313750\n  end_ms: 316790\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n  start_ms: 316790\n  end_ms: 318930\n- text: That's how it always is\n  start_ms: 318930\n  end_ms: 320270\n- text: We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n  start_ms: 320270\n  end_ms: 323070\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323070\nplain: |-\n  (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n  Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n  So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n  Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\n  Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n  Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true desperado\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n  And get they bones fractured\n\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n  Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n  Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n  Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n  Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n  Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n  From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n  'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n\n  'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\n  Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n  And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n  The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n  While mamacitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n  Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n\n  When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n  It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n  Comin' up on weed of all types\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n  You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n  Know when to fold 'em\n\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n  So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n  Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n  Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n\n  Smokin' pure from the health food store\n  While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n  So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n  When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n\n  When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n  Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n  Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n\n  Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n  No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n  It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n  Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n  And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n  No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n  Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n  Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n\n  Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n  You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n  That's how it always is\n  We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n"},{"id":21779463,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Fugees Greatest Hits","duration":284.8399999,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Fugees Greatest Hits\n  duration_ms: 284840\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":24667800,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Greatest Hits - Fugees","duration":287.093687,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Greatest Hits - Fugees\n  duration_ms: 287094\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":36998649,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"The fugees","albumName":"The Fugees","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\nDesperado, do work for new boy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n[Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n[Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n[Wyclef:]\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James Character\n\n[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n[Wyclef:]\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n[Pacewon:]\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n[Wyclef:]\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nBust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nWatch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists\n96\nMuthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Young Zee:]\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more n***as than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n[Pras:]\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\nYoung Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n[Pras:]\nF*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n[Young Zee:]\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store,\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nF**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\nWe march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n[John Forte:]\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nFull moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd s**t\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nN***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nthe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.62] This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n[00:12.13] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.29] Grab your guns boy\n[00:17.18] Forty-five by my side,\n[00:19.67] No the n***er dies.\n[00:21.05] [Pacewon:]\n[00:21.10] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:23.73] You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n[00:26.14] Desperado, do work for new boy\n[00:29.36] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:31.69] [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n[00:32.68] [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n[00:33.30] [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n[00:35.09] [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n[00:37.16] [Wyclef:]\n[00:38.34] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:38.99] So they play the Jesse James Character\n[00:40.80] [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n[00:42.43] [Pacewon:]\n[00:42.80] You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n[00:45.06] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.49] [Wyclef:]\n[00:47.77] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.49] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.24] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:56.00] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.31] [Pacewon:]\n[00:58.79] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:00.91] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:04.02] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.50] Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:08.94] [Wyclef:]\n[01:09.06] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:11.90] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.72] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.33] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n[01:19.95] [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:22.92] [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n[01:34.06] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[01:34.40] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.29] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:38.55] If anyone approaches\n[01:39.68] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:41.09] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.75] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n[01:46.64] [Rah Digga:]\n[01:47.24] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.04] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:51.84] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:54.48] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n[01:56.94] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[01:57.11] Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n[01:59.97] (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n[02:02.62] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:05.32] It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n[02:07.94] [Rah Digga:]\n[02:08.36] Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.48] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.29] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:16.68] Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n[02:18.22] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[02:18.42] And for all you head beaters\n[02:19.48] The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:21.78] While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n[02:23.80] [Rah Digga:]\n[02:24.00] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:25.36] L rocks the Nubian twists\n[02:26.73] 96\n[02:27.97] Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n[02:31.02] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:34.05] Grab your guns boy\n[02:37.35] Forty-five by my side,\n[02:38.69] No the n***er dies.\n[02:40.37] [Young Zee:]\n[02:40.76] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.57] It be more n***as than the NAACP\n[02:45.26] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:47.82] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n[02:50.51] [Pras:]\n[02:50.75] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.34] Know when to fold them)\n[02:55.38] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:58.65] Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n[03:01.69] Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:05.12] [Pras:]\n[03:05.78] F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.23] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:11.78] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.35] [Young Zee:]\n[03:14.53] That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n[03:17.27] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n[03:19.57] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.75] F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n[03:26.76] We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n[03:27.96] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:29.95] When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.56] [John Forte:]\n[03:33.82] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.39] Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.63] On some absurd s**t\n[03:38.75] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.24] N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n[03:43.78] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:45.43] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.62] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.34] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.00] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n[03:54.68] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.17] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.22] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:02.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.12] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:07.51] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:10.69] Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n[04:13.41] Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n[04:17.33] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:19.77] Grab your guns boy\n[04:22.95] Forty-five by my side,\n[04:24.62] No the n***er dies.\n[04:27.32] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: The fugees\n  album: The Fugees\n  duration_ms: 326000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:'\n  start_ms: 1620\n  end_ms: 12130\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12130\n  end_ms: 14290\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 14290\n  end_ms: 17180\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 17180\n  end_ms: 19670\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 19670\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 21100\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21100\n  end_ms: 23730\n- text: You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  start_ms: 23730\n  end_ms: 26140\n- text: Desperado, do work for new boy\n  start_ms: 26140\n  end_ms: 29360\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29360\n  end_ms: 31690\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Wyclef'\n  start_ms: 31690\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Pacewon'\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,'\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 35090\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.'\n  start_ms: 35090\n  end_ms: 37160\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 37160\n  end_ms: 38340\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 38340\n  end_ms: 38990\n- text: So they play the Jesse James Character\n  start_ms: 38990\n  end_ms: 40800\n- text: '[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.'\n  start_ms: 40800\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 42800\n- text: You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 42800\n  end_ms: 45060\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45060\n  end_ms: 47490\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 47490\n  end_ms: 47770\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47770\n  end_ms: 50490\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50490\n  end_ms: 53240\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53240\n  end_ms: 56000\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 56000\n  end_ms: 58310\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 58310\n  end_ms: 58790\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58790\n  end_ms: 60910\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 60910\n  end_ms: 64020\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 64020\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 69060\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69060\n  end_ms: 71900\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 71900\n  end_ms: 74720\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74720\n  end_ms: 77330\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n  start_ms: 77330\n  end_ms: 79950\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash'\n  start_ms: 79950\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Yo let''s skip town like Harlem nights.'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 94060\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 94060\n  end_ms: 94400\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 94400\n  end_ms: 97290\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97290\n  end_ms: 98550\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 98550\n  end_ms: 99680\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 99680\n  end_ms: 101090\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 101090\n  end_ms: 103750\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n  start_ms: 103750\n  end_ms: 106640\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 106640\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 109040\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109040\n  end_ms: 111840\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 111840\n  end_ms: 114480\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n  start_ms: 114480\n  end_ms: 116940\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 116940\n  end_ms: 117110\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117110\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 122620\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 122620\n  end_ms: 125320\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n  start_ms: 125320\n  end_ms: 127940\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 127940\n  end_ms: 128360\n- text: Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128360\n  end_ms: 130480\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130480\n  end_ms: 133290\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133290\n  end_ms: 136680\n- text: Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n  start_ms: 136680\n  end_ms: 138220\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 138220\n  end_ms: 138420\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138420\n  end_ms: 139480\n- text: The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 139480\n  end_ms: 141780\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n  start_ms: 141780\n  end_ms: 143800\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 143800\n  end_ms: 144000\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144000\n  end_ms: 145360\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists\n  start_ms: 145360\n  end_ms: 146730\n- text: '96'\n  start_ms: 146730\n  end_ms: 147970\n- text: Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 147970\n  end_ms: 151020\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151020\n  end_ms: 154050\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 154050\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 160370\n- text: '[Young Zee:]'\n  start_ms: 160370\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 162570\n- text: It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162570\n  end_ms: 165260\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165260\n  end_ms: 167820\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n  start_ms: 167820\n  end_ms: 170510\n- text: '[Pras:]'\n  start_ms: 170510\n  end_ms: 170750\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 170750\n  end_ms: 173340\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173340\n  end_ms: 175380\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 175380\n  end_ms: 178650\n- text: Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  start_ms: 178650\n  end_ms: 181690\n- text: 'Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa'\n  start_ms: 181690\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: '[Pras:]'\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 185780\n- text: F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 185780\n  end_ms: 189230\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189230\n  end_ms: 191780\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 191780\n  end_ms: 194350\n- text: '[Young Zee:]'\n  start_ms: 194350\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197270\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  start_ms: 197270\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 202750\n- text: F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  start_ms: 202750\n  end_ms: 206760\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  start_ms: 206760\n  end_ms: 207960\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 207960\n  end_ms: 209950\n- text: When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 209950\n  end_ms: 213560\n- text: '[John Forte:]'\n  start_ms: 213560\n  end_ms: 213820\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213820\n  end_ms: 215390\n- text: Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215390\n  end_ms: 217630\n- text: On some absurd s**t\n  start_ms: 217630\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 221240\n- text: N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  start_ms: 221240\n  end_ms: 223780\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 223780\n  end_ms: 225430\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 225430\n  end_ms: 226620\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226620\n  end_ms: 229340\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229340\n  end_ms: 232000\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  start_ms: 232000\n  end_ms: 234680\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234680\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 240220\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240220\n  end_ms: 242530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 242530\n  end_ms: 245120\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245120\n  end_ms: 247510\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 247510\n  end_ms: 250690\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 250690\n  end_ms: 253410\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 253410\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 259770\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 259770\n  end_ms: 262950\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 262950\n  end_ms: 264620\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 264620\n  end_ms: 267320\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 267320\nplain: |-\n  This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  Desperado, do work for new boy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n  [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n  [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n  [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James Character\n\n  [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n  [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists\n  96\n  Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n  [Pras:]\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  [Pras:]\n  F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  [John Forte:]\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd s**t\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  the bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n"},{"id":27732140,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"The Fugees","albumName":"Fugees - Greatest Hits","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\nDesperado, do work for new boy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n[Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n[Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n[Wyclef:]\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James Character\n\n[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n[Wyclef:]\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n[Pacewon:]\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n[Wyclef:]\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nBust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nWatch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists\n96\nMuthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Young Zee:]\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more n***as than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n[Pras:]\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\nYoung Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n[Pras:]\nF*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n[Young Zee:]\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store,\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nF**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\nWe march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n[John Forte:]\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nFull moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd s**t\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nN***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nthe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.62] This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n[00:12.13] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.29] Grab your guns boy\n[00:17.18] Forty-five by my side,\n[00:19.67] No the n***er dies.\n[00:21.05] [Pacewon:]\n[00:21.10] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:23.73] You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n[00:26.14] Desperado, do work for new boy\n[00:29.36] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:31.69] [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n[00:32.68] [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n[00:33.30] [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n[00:35.09] [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n[00:37.16] [Wyclef:]\n[00:38.34] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:38.99] So they play the Jesse James Character\n[00:40.80] [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n[00:42.43] [Pacewon:]\n[00:42.80] You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n[00:45.06] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.49] [Wyclef:]\n[00:47.77] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.49] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.24] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:56.00] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.31] [Pacewon:]\n[00:58.79] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:00.91] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:04.02] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.50] Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:08.94] [Wyclef:]\n[01:09.06] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:11.90] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.72] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.33] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n[01:19.95] [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:22.92] [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n[01:34.06] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[01:34.40] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.29] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:38.55] If anyone approaches\n[01:39.68] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:41.09] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.75] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n[01:46.64] [Rah Digga:]\n[01:47.24] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.04] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:51.84] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:54.48] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n[01:56.94] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[01:57.11] Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n[01:59.97] (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n[02:02.62] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:05.32] It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n[02:07.94] [Rah Digga:]\n[02:08.36] Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.48] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.29] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:16.68] Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n[02:18.22] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[02:18.42] And for all you head beaters\n[02:19.48] The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:21.78] While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n[02:23.80] [Rah Digga:]\n[02:24.00] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:25.36] L rocks the Nubian twists\n[02:26.73] 96\n[02:27.97] Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n[02:31.02] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:34.05] Grab your guns boy\n[02:37.35] Forty-five by my side,\n[02:38.69] No the n***er dies.\n[02:40.37] [Young Zee:]\n[02:40.76] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.57] It be more n***as than the NAACP\n[02:45.26] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:47.82] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n[02:50.51] [Pras:]\n[02:50.75] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.34] Know when to fold them)\n[02:55.38] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:58.65] Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n[03:01.69] Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:05.12] [Pras:]\n[03:05.78] F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.23] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:11.78] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.35] [Young Zee:]\n[03:14.53] That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n[03:17.27] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n[03:19.57] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.75] F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n[03:26.76] We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n[03:27.96] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:29.95] When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.56] [John Forte:]\n[03:33.82] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.39] Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.63] On some absurd s**t\n[03:38.75] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.24] N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n[03:43.78] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:45.43] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.62] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.34] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.00] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n[03:54.68] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.17] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.22] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:02.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.12] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:07.51] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:10.69] Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n[04:13.41] Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n[04:17.33] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:19.77] Grab your guns boy\n[04:22.95] Forty-five by my side,\n[04:24.62] No the n***er dies.\n[04:27.32] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: The Fugees\n  album: Fugees - Greatest Hits\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:'\n  start_ms: 1620\n  end_ms: 12130\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12130\n  end_ms: 14290\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 14290\n  end_ms: 17180\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 17180\n  end_ms: 19670\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 19670\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 21100\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21100\n  end_ms: 23730\n- text: You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  start_ms: 23730\n  end_ms: 26140\n- text: Desperado, do work for new boy\n  start_ms: 26140\n  end_ms: 29360\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29360\n  end_ms: 31690\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Wyclef'\n  start_ms: 31690\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Pacewon'\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,'\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 35090\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.'\n  start_ms: 35090\n  end_ms: 37160\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 37160\n  end_ms: 38340\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 38340\n  end_ms: 38990\n- text: So they play the Jesse James Character\n  start_ms: 38990\n  end_ms: 40800\n- text: '[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.'\n  start_ms: 40800\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 42800\n- text: You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 42800\n  end_ms: 45060\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45060\n  end_ms: 47490\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 47490\n  end_ms: 47770\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47770\n  end_ms: 50490\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50490\n  end_ms: 53240\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53240\n  end_ms: 56000\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 56000\n  end_ms: 58310\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 58310\n  end_ms: 58790\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58790\n  end_ms: 60910\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 60910\n  end_ms: 64020\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 64020\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 69060\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69060\n  end_ms: 71900\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 71900\n  end_ms: 74720\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74720\n  end_ms: 77330\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n  start_ms: 77330\n  end_ms: 79950\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash'\n  start_ms: 79950\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Yo let''s skip town like Harlem nights.'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 94060\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 94060\n  end_ms: 94400\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 94400\n  end_ms: 97290\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97290\n  end_ms: 98550\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 98550\n  end_ms: 99680\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 99680\n  end_ms: 101090\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 101090\n  end_ms: 103750\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n  start_ms: 103750\n  end_ms: 106640\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 106640\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 109040\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109040\n  end_ms: 111840\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 111840\n  end_ms: 114480\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n  start_ms: 114480\n  end_ms: 116940\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 116940\n  end_ms: 117110\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117110\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 122620\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 122620\n  end_ms: 125320\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n  start_ms: 125320\n  end_ms: 127940\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 127940\n  end_ms: 128360\n- text: Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128360\n  end_ms: 130480\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130480\n  end_ms: 133290\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133290\n  end_ms: 136680\n- text: Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n  start_ms: 136680\n  end_ms: 138220\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 138220\n  end_ms: 138420\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138420\n  end_ms: 139480\n- text: The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 139480\n  end_ms: 141780\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n  start_ms: 141780\n  end_ms: 143800\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 143800\n  end_ms: 144000\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144000\n  end_ms: 145360\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists\n  start_ms: 145360\n  end_ms: 146730\n- text: '96'\n  start_ms: 146730\n  end_ms: 147970\n- text: Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 147970\n  end_ms: 151020\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151020\n  end_ms: 154050\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 154050\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 160370\n- text: '[Young Zee:]'\n  start_ms: 160370\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 162570\n- text: It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162570\n  end_ms: 165260\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165260\n  end_ms: 167820\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n  start_ms: 167820\n  end_ms: 170510\n- text: '[Pras:]'\n  start_ms: 170510\n  end_ms: 170750\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 170750\n  end_ms: 173340\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173340\n  end_ms: 175380\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 175380\n  end_ms: 178650\n- text: Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  start_ms: 178650\n  end_ms: 181690\n- text: 'Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa'\n  start_ms: 181690\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: '[Pras:]'\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 185780\n- text: F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 185780\n  end_ms: 189230\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189230\n  end_ms: 191780\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 191780\n  end_ms: 194350\n- text: '[Young Zee:]'\n  start_ms: 194350\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197270\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  start_ms: 197270\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 202750\n- text: F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  start_ms: 202750\n  end_ms: 206760\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  start_ms: 206760\n  end_ms: 207960\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 207960\n  end_ms: 209950\n- text: When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 209950\n  end_ms: 213560\n- text: '[John Forte:]'\n  start_ms: 213560\n  end_ms: 213820\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213820\n  end_ms: 215390\n- text: Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215390\n  end_ms: 217630\n- text: On some absurd s**t\n  start_ms: 217630\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 221240\n- text: N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  start_ms: 221240\n  end_ms: 223780\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 223780\n  end_ms: 225430\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 225430\n  end_ms: 226620\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226620\n  end_ms: 229340\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229340\n  end_ms: 232000\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  start_ms: 232000\n  end_ms: 234680\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234680\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 240220\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240220\n  end_ms: 242530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 242530\n  end_ms: 245120\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245120\n  end_ms: 247510\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 247510\n  end_ms: 250690\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 250690\n  end_ms: 253410\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 253410\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 259770\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 259770\n  end_ms: 262950\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 262950\n  end_ms: 264620\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 264620\n  end_ms: 267320\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 267320\nplain: |-\n  This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  Desperado, do work for new boy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n  [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n  [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n  [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James Character\n\n  [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n  [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists\n  96\n  Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n  [Pras:]\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  [Pras:]\n  F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  [John Forte:]\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd s**t\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  the bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n"},{"id":27743530,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Score - Fugees (Refugee Camp)","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Score - Fugees (Refugee Camp)\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":18239384,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"The Fugees","albumName":"The Fugees - The Score","duration":323.560625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\nDesperado, do work for new boy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n[Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n[Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n[Wyclef:]\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James Character\n\n[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n[Wyclef:]\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n[Pacewon:]\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n[Wyclef:]\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nBust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nWatch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists\n96\nMuthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Young Zee:]\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more n***as than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n[Pras:]\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\nYoung Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n[Pras:]\nF*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n[Young Zee:]\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store,\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nF**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\nWe march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n[John Forte:]\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nFull moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd s**t\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nN***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nthe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.62] This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n[00:12.13] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.29] Grab your guns boy\n[00:17.18] Forty-five by my side,\n[00:19.67] No the n***er dies.\n[00:21.05] [Pacewon:]\n[00:21.10] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:23.73] You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n[00:26.14] Desperado, do work for new boy\n[00:29.36] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:31.69] [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n[00:32.68] [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n[00:33.30] [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n[00:35.09] [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n[00:37.16] [Wyclef:]\n[00:38.34] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:38.99] So they play the Jesse James Character\n[00:40.80] [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n[00:42.43] [Pacewon:]\n[00:42.80] You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n[00:45.06] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.49] [Wyclef:]\n[00:47.77] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.49] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.24] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:56.00] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.31] [Pacewon:]\n[00:58.79] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:00.91] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:04.02] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.50] Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:08.94] [Wyclef:]\n[01:09.06] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:11.90] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.72] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.33] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n[01:19.95] [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:22.92] [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n[01:34.06] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[01:34.40] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.29] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:38.55] If anyone approaches\n[01:39.68] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:41.09] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.75] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n[01:46.64] [Rah Digga:]\n[01:47.24] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.04] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:51.84] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:54.48] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n[01:56.94] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[01:57.11] Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n[01:59.97] (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n[02:02.62] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:05.32] It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n[02:07.94] [Rah Digga:]\n[02:08.36] Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.48] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.29] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:16.68] Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n[02:18.22] [Lauryn Hill:]\n[02:18.42] And for all you head beaters\n[02:19.48] The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:21.78] While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n[02:23.80] [Rah Digga:]\n[02:24.00] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:25.36] L rocks the Nubian twists\n[02:26.73] 96\n[02:27.97] Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n[02:31.02] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:34.05] Grab your guns boy\n[02:37.35] Forty-five by my side,\n[02:38.69] No the n***er dies.\n[02:40.37] [Young Zee:]\n[02:40.76] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.57] It be more n***as than the NAACP\n[02:45.26] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:47.82] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n[02:50.51] [Pras:]\n[02:50.75] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.34] Know when to fold them)\n[02:55.38] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:58.65] Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n[03:01.69] Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:05.12] [Pras:]\n[03:05.78] F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.23] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:11.78] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.35] [Young Zee:]\n[03:14.53] That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n[03:17.27] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n[03:19.57] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.75] F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n[03:26.76] We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n[03:27.96] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:29.95] When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.56] [John Forte:]\n[03:33.82] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.39] Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.63] On some absurd s**t\n[03:38.75] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.24] N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n[03:43.78] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:45.43] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.62] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.34] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.00] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n[03:54.68] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.17] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.22] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:02.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.12] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:07.51] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:10.69] Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n[04:13.41] Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n[04:17.33] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:19.77] Grab your guns boy\n[04:22.95] Forty-five by my side,\n[04:24.62] No the n***er dies.\n[04:27.32] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: The Fugees\n  album: The Fugees - The Score\n  duration_ms: 323561\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:'\n  start_ms: 1620\n  end_ms: 12130\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12130\n  end_ms: 14290\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 14290\n  end_ms: 17180\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 17180\n  end_ms: 19670\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 19670\n  end_ms: 21050\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 21050\n  end_ms: 21100\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21100\n  end_ms: 23730\n- text: You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  start_ms: 23730\n  end_ms: 26140\n- text: Desperado, do work for new boy\n  start_ms: 26140\n  end_ms: 29360\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29360\n  end_ms: 31690\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Wyclef'\n  start_ms: 31690\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Pacewon'\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,'\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 35090\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.'\n  start_ms: 35090\n  end_ms: 37160\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 37160\n  end_ms: 38340\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 38340\n  end_ms: 38990\n- text: So they play the Jesse James Character\n  start_ms: 38990\n  end_ms: 40800\n- text: '[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.'\n  start_ms: 40800\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 42800\n- text: You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 42800\n  end_ms: 45060\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45060\n  end_ms: 47490\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 47490\n  end_ms: 47770\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47770\n  end_ms: 50490\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50490\n  end_ms: 53240\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53240\n  end_ms: 56000\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 56000\n  end_ms: 58310\n- text: '[Pacewon:]'\n  start_ms: 58310\n  end_ms: 58790\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58790\n  end_ms: 60910\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 60910\n  end_ms: 64020\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 64020\n  end_ms: 66500\n- text: Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66500\n  end_ms: 68940\n- text: '[Wyclef:]'\n  start_ms: 68940\n  end_ms: 69060\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69060\n  end_ms: 71900\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 71900\n  end_ms: 74720\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74720\n  end_ms: 77330\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n  start_ms: 77330\n  end_ms: 79950\n- text: '[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash'\n  start_ms: 79950\n  end_ms: 82920\n- text: '[Wyclef:] Yo let''s skip town like Harlem nights.'\n  start_ms: 82920\n  end_ms: 94060\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 94060\n  end_ms: 94400\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 94400\n  end_ms: 97290\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97290\n  end_ms: 98550\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 98550\n  end_ms: 99680\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 99680\n  end_ms: 101090\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 101090\n  end_ms: 103750\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n  start_ms: 103750\n  end_ms: 106640\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 106640\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 109040\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109040\n  end_ms: 111840\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 111840\n  end_ms: 114480\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n  start_ms: 114480\n  end_ms: 116940\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 116940\n  end_ms: 117110\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117110\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 122620\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 122620\n  end_ms: 125320\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n  start_ms: 125320\n  end_ms: 127940\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 127940\n  end_ms: 128360\n- text: Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128360\n  end_ms: 130480\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130480\n  end_ms: 133290\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133290\n  end_ms: 136680\n- text: Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n  start_ms: 136680\n  end_ms: 138220\n- text: '[Lauryn Hill:]'\n  start_ms: 138220\n  end_ms: 138420\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138420\n  end_ms: 139480\n- text: The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 139480\n  end_ms: 141780\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n  start_ms: 141780\n  end_ms: 143800\n- text: '[Rah Digga:]'\n  start_ms: 143800\n  end_ms: 144000\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144000\n  end_ms: 145360\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists\n  start_ms: 145360\n  end_ms: 146730\n- text: '96'\n  start_ms: 146730\n  end_ms: 147970\n- text: Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 147970\n  end_ms: 151020\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151020\n  end_ms: 154050\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 154050\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 160370\n- text: '[Young Zee:]'\n  start_ms: 160370\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 162570\n- text: It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162570\n  end_ms: 165260\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165260\n  end_ms: 167820\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n  start_ms: 167820\n  end_ms: 170510\n- text: '[Pras:]'\n  start_ms: 170510\n  end_ms: 170750\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 170750\n  end_ms: 173340\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173340\n  end_ms: 175380\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 175380\n  end_ms: 178650\n- text: Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  start_ms: 178650\n  end_ms: 181690\n- text: 'Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa'\n  start_ms: 181690\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: '[Pras:]'\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 185780\n- text: F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 185780\n  end_ms: 189230\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189230\n  end_ms: 191780\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 191780\n  end_ms: 194350\n- text: '[Young Zee:]'\n  start_ms: 194350\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197270\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  start_ms: 197270\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 202750\n- text: F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  start_ms: 202750\n  end_ms: 206760\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  start_ms: 206760\n  end_ms: 207960\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 207960\n  end_ms: 209950\n- text: When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 209950\n  end_ms: 213560\n- text: '[John Forte:]'\n  start_ms: 213560\n  end_ms: 213820\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213820\n  end_ms: 215390\n- text: Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215390\n  end_ms: 217630\n- text: On some absurd s**t\n  start_ms: 217630\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 221240\n- text: N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  start_ms: 221240\n  end_ms: 223780\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 223780\n  end_ms: 225430\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 225430\n  end_ms: 226620\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226620\n  end_ms: 229340\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229340\n  end_ms: 232000\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  start_ms: 232000\n  end_ms: 234680\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234680\n  end_ms: 237170\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237170\n  end_ms: 240220\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240220\n  end_ms: 242530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 242530\n  end_ms: 245120\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245120\n  end_ms: 247510\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 247510\n  end_ms: 250690\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 250690\n  end_ms: 253410\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 253410\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 259770\n- text: Grab your guns boy\n  start_ms: 259770\n  end_ms: 262950\n- text: Forty-five by my side,\n  start_ms: 262950\n  end_ms: 264620\n- text: No the n***er dies.\n  start_ms: 264620\n  end_ms: 267320\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 267320\nplain: |-\n  This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  Desperado, do work for new boy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n  [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n  [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n  [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James Character\n\n  [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n  [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists\n  96\n  Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n  [Pras:]\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  [Pras:]\n  F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  [John Forte:]\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd s**t\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  the bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n"},{"id":32854309,"name":"Cowboys (Lp Version)","trackName":"Cowboys (Lp Version)","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Fugees - Killing Me Softly","duration":293.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\nDesperado, do work for new boy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n[Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n[Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n[Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n[Wyclef:]\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James Character\n\n[Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n[Pacewon:]\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n[Wyclef:]\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n[Pacewon:]\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n[Wyclef:]\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n[Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n[Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nBust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nWatch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n[Lauryn Hill:]\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n[Rah Digga:]\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists\n96\nMuthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.\n\n[Young Zee:]\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more n***as than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n[Pras:]\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\nYoung Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n[Pras:]\nF*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n[Young Zee:]\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store,\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nF**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\nWe march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n[John Forte:]\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nFull moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd s**t\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nN***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nthe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab your guns boy\nForty-five by my side,\nNo the n***er dies.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys (Lp Version)\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Fugees - Killing Me Softly\n  duration_ms: 293000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  This is the Fugees, Outsiders up in here:\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet when ****\n  Desperado, do work for new boy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n\n  [Wyclef:] Wyclef\n\n  [Pacewon:] Pacewon\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo this was how the West was won,\n\n  [Pacewon:] Our motto, a true Desperado.\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James Character\n\n  [Pacewon:] And get they bones fractured.\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  [Pacewon:]\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pace 1 dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  [Wyclef:]\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming.\n\n  [Pacewon:] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n\n  [Wyclef:] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other n***ers in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario), bust us when we in stereo.\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  Watch these rap b***hes get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' n***ers like I'm 90 proof.\n\n  [Lauryn Hill:]\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters, the cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters.\n\n  [Rah Digga:]\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists\n  96\n  Muthaf***as gettin' dissed\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more n***as than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes.\n\n  [Pras:]\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your goldmine.\n  Young Zee: So ooh aaah achiga, Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  [Pras:]\n  F*** the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  [Young Zee:]\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store,\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  F**k with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers,\n  We march through your hood with a million muthaf***as.\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house, like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  [John Forte:]\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd s**t\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  N***as who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker.\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton.\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  the bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm s***tin' on the corners\n\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab your guns boy\n  Forty-five by my side,\n  No the n***er dies.\n"},{"id":4196193,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Score  (Expanded Edition)","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\nOutsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\nSo, you wanna be a cowboy?\nEverybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\nZen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet went\nDesperado, new word for rudeboy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true desperado\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James call-up card\nAnd get they bones fractured\n\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\nWoman cry, woman cry, son still dies\nThrown off the building like The Fall Guy\nCaved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\nPlayin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\nWho's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\nYo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\nThen I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\nFrom North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n\n'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\nDigga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\nAnd for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\nThe cheaters, soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamacitas carry real heaters\nI rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\nNine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n\nWhen the Outs hooked up with the refugees\nIt be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\nComin' up on weed of all types\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\nYou've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\nKnow when to fold 'em\n\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\nSo ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\nMama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\nFuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n\nSmokin' pure from the health food store\nWhile my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\nSo let's get high off the fu-gee-la\nWhen the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\nFull moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\nGun play is regular, front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\nLife will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n\nYo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\nNo need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\nIt's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\nLast night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\nAnd when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\nNo, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\nBlood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\nMother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n\nTomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\nYou know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\nThat's how it always is\nWe cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n[00:02.24] Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n[00:04.60] So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n[00:07.24] Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n[00:10.70] Oh-lay-hee\n[00:12.63] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n[00:16.04] Oh-lay-hee\n[00:17.75] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n[00:24.22] You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n[00:26.36] Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n[00:29.59] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:31.96] Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n[00:35.60] Our motto, a true desperado\n[00:37.77] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.26] So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n[00:41.49] And get they bones fractured\n[00:42.75] You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n[00:45.13] Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:48.12] Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n[00:50.88] Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n[00:53.58] Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n[00:56.24] Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.96] Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.15] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n[01:04.64] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.91] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.26] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.11] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n[01:15.37] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.43] Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.39] Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.32] Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n[01:25.44] Oh-lay-hee\n[01:27.32] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n[01:30.72] Oh-lay-hee\n[01:32.46] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n[01:35.16] We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:38.45] If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n[01:41.61] Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:44.17] R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.72] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.50] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n[01:52.14] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:54.62] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n[01:56.88] Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n[01:59.90] From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n[02:03.40] 'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:05.31] It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.33] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.72] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:14.20] 'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\n[02:15.60] Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n[02:17.96] And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n[02:20.36] The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.05] While mamacitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.22] I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n[02:27.18] Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n[02:29.41] Oh-lay-hee\n[02:31.32] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n[02:34.84] Oh-lay-hee\n[02:36.75] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n[02:40.01] When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n[02:42.26] It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n[02:45.99] Comin' up on weed of all types\n[02:48.24] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n[02:50.46] You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n[02:53.86] Know when to fold 'em\n[02:55.60] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:58.72] Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n[03:01.47] So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n[03:03.98] Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n[03:06.95] Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.26] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:11.81] Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n[03:15.07] That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n[03:17.84] Smokin' pure from the health food store\n[03:20.00] While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:23.17] Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.36] We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n[03:28.53] So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n[03:30.61] When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n[03:33.46] When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n[03:35.62] Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n[03:38.97] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.51] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.26] Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.68] 21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.69] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.07] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:55.11] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.53] The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n[03:59.92] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n[04:03.12] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:04.89] Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n[04:08.10] Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n[04:10.85] Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n[04:13.66] Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n[04:16.05] Oh-lay-hee\n[04:17.95] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n[04:21.49] Oh-lay-hee\n[04:23.23] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n[04:29.70] \n[04:48.63] Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n[04:51.64] You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n[04:54.29] No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n[04:56.63] It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n[04:59.51] Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n[05:03.53] And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n[05:05.93] No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n[05:08.98] Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n[05:11.17] Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n[05:13.75] Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n[05:16.79] You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n[05:18.93] That's how it always is\n[05:20.27] We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n[05:23.07] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Score  (Expanded Edition)\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 2240\n- text: Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n  start_ms: 2240\n  end_ms: 4600\n- text: So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 4600\n  end_ms: 7240\n- text: Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n  start_ms: 7240\n  end_ms: 10700\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 10700\n  end_ms: 12630\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  start_ms: 12630\n  end_ms: 16040\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 16040\n  end_ms: 17750\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n  start_ms: 17750\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24220\n- text: You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n  start_ms: 24220\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 29590\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29590\n  end_ms: 31960\n- text: Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 31960\n  end_ms: 35600\n- text: Our motto, a true desperado\n  start_ms: 35600\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39260\n- text: So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n  start_ms: 39260\n  end_ms: 41490\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41490\n  end_ms: 42750\n- text: You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 42750\n  end_ms: 45130\n- text: Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45130\n  end_ms: 48120\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n  start_ms: 48120\n  end_ms: 50880\n- text: Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n  start_ms: 50880\n  end_ms: 53580\n- text: Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n  start_ms: 53580\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58960\n- text: Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58960\n  end_ms: 61150\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n  start_ms: 61150\n  end_ms: 64640\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 64640\n  end_ms: 66910\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66910\n  end_ms: 69260\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69260\n  end_ms: 72110\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n  start_ms: 72110\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 77430\n- text: Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77430\n  end_ms: 80390\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80390\n  end_ms: 83320\n- text: Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n  start_ms: 83320\n  end_ms: 85440\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 85440\n  end_ms: 87320\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  start_ms: 87320\n  end_ms: 90720\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 90720\n  end_ms: 92460\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n  start_ms: 92460\n  end_ms: 95160\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 95160\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104170\n- text: R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 104170\n  end_ms: 106720\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106720\n  end_ms: 109500\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n  start_ms: 109500\n  end_ms: 112140\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112140\n  end_ms: 114620\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n  start_ms: 114620\n  end_ms: 116880\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n  start_ms: 116880\n  end_ms: 119900\n- text: From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 119900\n  end_ms: 123400\n- text: '''Cause me and Rashida rock the battles'\n  start_ms: 123400\n  end_ms: 125310\n- text: It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n  start_ms: 125310\n  end_ms: 128330\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128330\n  end_ms: 130720\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130720\n  end_ms: 134200\n- text: '''Cause props is up (Rah Digga)'\n  start_ms: 134200\n  end_ms: 135600\n- text: Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 135600\n  end_ms: 137960\n- text: And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n  start_ms: 137960\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 142050\n- text: While mamacitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142050\n  end_ms: 144220\n- text: I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n  start_ms: 144220\n  end_ms: 147180\n- text: Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 147180\n  end_ms: 149410\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 149410\n  end_ms: 151320\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  start_ms: 151320\n  end_ms: 154840\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 154840\n  end_ms: 156750\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n  start_ms: 156750\n  end_ms: 160010\n- text: When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n  start_ms: 160010\n  end_ms: 162260\n- text: It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n  start_ms: 162260\n  end_ms: 165990\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all types\n  start_ms: 165990\n  end_ms: 168240\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n  start_ms: 168240\n  end_ms: 170460\n- text: You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 170460\n  end_ms: 173860\n- text: Know when to fold 'em\n  start_ms: 173860\n  end_ms: 175600\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 175600\n  end_ms: 178720\n- text: Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n  start_ms: 178720\n  end_ms: 181470\n- text: So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n  start_ms: 181470\n  end_ms: 183980\n- text: Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n  start_ms: 183980\n  end_ms: 186950\n- text: Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 186950\n  end_ms: 189260\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189260\n  end_ms: 191810\n- text: Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n  start_ms: 191810\n  end_ms: 195070\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n  start_ms: 195070\n  end_ms: 197840\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health food store\n  start_ms: 197840\n  end_ms: 200000\n- text: While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 200000\n  end_ms: 203170\n- text: Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 203170\n  end_ms: 205360\n- text: We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 205360\n  end_ms: 208530\n- text: So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n  start_ms: 208530\n  end_ms: 210610\n- text: When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n  start_ms: 210610\n  end_ms: 213460\n- text: When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n  start_ms: 213460\n  end_ms: 215620\n- text: Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 215620\n  end_ms: 218970\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 218970\n  end_ms: 221510\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221510\n  end_ms: 224260\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 224260\n  end_ms: 226680\n- text: 21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226680\n  end_ms: 229690\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229690\n  end_ms: 232070\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232070\n  end_ms: 235110\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 235110\n  end_ms: 237530\n- text: The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n  start_ms: 237530\n  end_ms: 239920\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n  start_ms: 239920\n  end_ms: 243120\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243120\n  end_ms: 244890\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 244890\n  end_ms: 248100\n- text: Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248100\n  end_ms: 250850\n- text: Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  start_ms: 250850\n  end_ms: 253660\n- text: Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  start_ms: 253660\n  end_ms: 256050\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 256050\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 261490\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 261490\n  end_ms: 263230\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n  start_ms: 263230\n  end_ms: 269700\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269700\n  end_ms: 288630\n- text: Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 288630\n  end_ms: 291640\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n  start_ms: 291640\n  end_ms: 294290\n- text: No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n  start_ms: 294290\n  end_ms: 296630\n- text: It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n  start_ms: 296630\n  end_ms: 299510\n- text: Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n  start_ms: 299510\n  end_ms: 303530\n- text: And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n  start_ms: 303530\n  end_ms: 305930\n- text: No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n  start_ms: 305930\n  end_ms: 308980\n- text: Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n  start_ms: 308980\n  end_ms: 311170\n- text: Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n  start_ms: 311170\n  end_ms: 313750\n- text: Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n  start_ms: 313750\n  end_ms: 316790\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n  start_ms: 316790\n  end_ms: 318930\n- text: That's how it always is\n  start_ms: 318930\n  end_ms: 320270\n- text: We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n  start_ms: 320270\n  end_ms: 323070\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323070\nplain: |-\n  (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n  Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n  So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n  Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\n  Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n  Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true desperado\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n  And get they bones fractured\n\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n  Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n  Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n  Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n  Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n  Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n  From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n  'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n\n  'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\n  Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n  And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n  The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n  While mamacitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n  Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n\n  When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n  It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n  Comin' up on weed of all types\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n  You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n  Know when to fold 'em\n\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n  So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n  Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n  Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n\n  Smokin' pure from the health food store\n  While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n  So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n  When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n\n  When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n  Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n  Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n\n  Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n  No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n  It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n  Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n  And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n  No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n  Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n  Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n\n  Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n  You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n  That's how it always is\n  We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n"},{"id":1720688,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Score","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Score\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":30672058,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Greatest Hits Cd 1","duration":287.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Greatest Hits Cd 1\n  duration_ms: 287000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":32674578,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"0834 - The Score","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: 0834 - The Score\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":31080249,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Complete Score CD1","duration":324.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Complete Score CD1\n  duration_ms: 324000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":31563635,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Greatest Hits - CD1","duration":287.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Greatest Hits - CD1\n  duration_ms: 287000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":18175669,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Score D3 Mix","duration":323.552653,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\nOutsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\nSo, you wanna be a cowboy?\nEverybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\nZen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\nYou shot your bullet, but the bullet went\nDesperado, new word for rudeboy\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true desperado\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James call-up card\nAnd get they bones fractured\n\nYou ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\nInside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\nWoman cry, woman cry, son still dies\nThrown off the building like The Fall Guy\nCaved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\nPlayin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\nWho's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\nYo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\nThen I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\nFrom North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n\n'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\nDigga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\nAnd for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\nThe cheaters, soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamacitas carry real heaters\nI rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\nNine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n\nWhen the Outs hooked up with the refugees\nIt be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\nComin' up on weed of all types\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\nYou've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\nKnow when to fold 'em\n\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\nSo ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\nMama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\nFuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\nThat would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n\nSmokin' pure from the health food store\nWhile my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\nSo let's get high off the fu-gee-la\nWhen the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\nFull moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\nGun play is regular, front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\nLife will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n\nOh-lay-hee\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\nOh-lay-hee\n.45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n\nYo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\nNo need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\nIt's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\nLast night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\nAnd when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\nNo, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\nBlood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\nMother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n\nTomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\nYou know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\nThat's how it always is\nWe cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n[00:02.24] Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n[00:04.60] So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n[00:07.24] Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n[00:10.70] Oh-lay-hee\n[00:12.63] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n[00:16.04] Oh-lay-hee\n[00:17.75] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n[00:24.22] You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n[00:26.36] Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n[00:29.59] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:31.96] Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n[00:35.60] Our motto, a true desperado\n[00:37.77] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.26] So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n[00:41.49] And get they bones fractured\n[00:42.75] You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n[00:45.13] Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:48.12] Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n[00:50.88] Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n[00:53.58] Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n[00:56.24] Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.96] Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.15] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n[01:04.64] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.91] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.26] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.11] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n[01:15.37] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.43] Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.39] Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.32] Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n[01:25.44] Oh-lay-hee\n[01:27.32] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n[01:30.72] Oh-lay-hee\n[01:32.46] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n[01:35.16] We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:38.45] If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n[01:41.61] Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:44.17] R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.72] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.50] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n[01:52.14] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:54.62] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n[01:56.88] Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n[01:59.90] From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n[02:03.40] 'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:05.31] It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.33] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.72] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:14.20] 'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\n[02:15.60] Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n[02:17.96] And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n[02:20.36] The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.05] While mamacitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.22] I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n[02:27.18] Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n[02:29.41] Oh-lay-hee\n[02:31.32] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n[02:34.84] Oh-lay-hee\n[02:36.75] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n[02:40.01] When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n[02:42.26] It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n[02:45.99] Comin' up on weed of all types\n[02:48.24] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n[02:50.46] You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n[02:53.86] Know when to fold 'em\n[02:55.60] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:58.72] Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n[03:01.47] So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n[03:03.98] Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n[03:06.95] Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.26] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:11.81] Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n[03:15.07] That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n[03:17.84] Smokin' pure from the health food store\n[03:20.00] While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:23.17] Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.36] We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n[03:28.53] So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n[03:30.61] When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n[03:33.46] When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n[03:35.62] Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n[03:38.97] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.51] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.26] Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.68] 21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.69] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.07] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:55.11] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.53] The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n[03:59.92] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n[04:03.12] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:04.89] Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n[04:08.10] Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n[04:10.85] Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n[04:13.66] Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n[04:16.05] Oh-lay-hee\n[04:17.95] Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n[04:21.49] Oh-lay-hee\n[04:23.23] .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n[04:29.70] \n[04:48.63] Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n[04:51.64] You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n[04:54.29] No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n[04:56.63] It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n[04:59.51] Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n[05:03.53] And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n[05:05.93] No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n[05:08.98] Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n[05:11.17] Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n[05:13.75] Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n[05:16.79] You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n[05:18.93] That's how it always is\n[05:20.27] We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n[05:23.07] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Score D3 Mix\n  duration_ms: 323553\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 2240\n- text: Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n  start_ms: 2240\n  end_ms: 4600\n- text: So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 4600\n  end_ms: 7240\n- text: Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n  start_ms: 7240\n  end_ms: 10700\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 10700\n  end_ms: 12630\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  start_ms: 12630\n  end_ms: 16040\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 16040\n  end_ms: 17750\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n  start_ms: 17750\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24220\n- text: You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n  start_ms: 24220\n  end_ms: 26360\n- text: Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n  start_ms: 26360\n  end_ms: 29590\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29590\n  end_ms: 31960\n- text: Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 31960\n  end_ms: 35600\n- text: Our motto, a true desperado\n  start_ms: 35600\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 39260\n- text: So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n  start_ms: 39260\n  end_ms: 41490\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41490\n  end_ms: 42750\n- text: You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 42750\n  end_ms: 45130\n- text: Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45130\n  end_ms: 48120\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n  start_ms: 48120\n  end_ms: 50880\n- text: Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n  start_ms: 50880\n  end_ms: 53580\n- text: Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n  start_ms: 53580\n  end_ms: 56240\n- text: Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 56240\n  end_ms: 58960\n- text: Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58960\n  end_ms: 61150\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n  start_ms: 61150\n  end_ms: 64640\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 64640\n  end_ms: 66910\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66910\n  end_ms: 69260\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69260\n  end_ms: 72110\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n  start_ms: 72110\n  end_ms: 75370\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 75370\n  end_ms: 77430\n- text: Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77430\n  end_ms: 80390\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80390\n  end_ms: 83320\n- text: Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n  start_ms: 83320\n  end_ms: 85440\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 85440\n  end_ms: 87320\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  start_ms: 87320\n  end_ms: 90720\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 90720\n  end_ms: 92460\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n  start_ms: 92460\n  end_ms: 95160\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 95160\n  end_ms: 98450\n- text: If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n  start_ms: 98450\n  end_ms: 101610\n- text: Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 101610\n  end_ms: 104170\n- text: R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 104170\n  end_ms: 106720\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106720\n  end_ms: 109500\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n  start_ms: 109500\n  end_ms: 112140\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112140\n  end_ms: 114620\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n  start_ms: 114620\n  end_ms: 116880\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n  start_ms: 116880\n  end_ms: 119900\n- text: From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 119900\n  end_ms: 123400\n- text: '''Cause me and Rashida rock the battles'\n  start_ms: 123400\n  end_ms: 125310\n- text: It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n  start_ms: 125310\n  end_ms: 128330\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128330\n  end_ms: 130720\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130720\n  end_ms: 134200\n- text: '''Cause props is up (Rah Digga)'\n  start_ms: 134200\n  end_ms: 135600\n- text: Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 135600\n  end_ms: 137960\n- text: And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n  start_ms: 137960\n  end_ms: 140360\n- text: The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 140360\n  end_ms: 142050\n- text: While mamacitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142050\n  end_ms: 144220\n- text: I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n  start_ms: 144220\n  end_ms: 147180\n- text: Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 147180\n  end_ms: 149410\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 149410\n  end_ms: 151320\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  start_ms: 151320\n  end_ms: 154840\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 154840\n  end_ms: 156750\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n  start_ms: 156750\n  end_ms: 160010\n- text: When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n  start_ms: 160010\n  end_ms: 162260\n- text: It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n  start_ms: 162260\n  end_ms: 165990\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all types\n  start_ms: 165990\n  end_ms: 168240\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n  start_ms: 168240\n  end_ms: 170460\n- text: You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 170460\n  end_ms: 173860\n- text: Know when to fold 'em\n  start_ms: 173860\n  end_ms: 175600\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 175600\n  end_ms: 178720\n- text: Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n  start_ms: 178720\n  end_ms: 181470\n- text: So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n  start_ms: 181470\n  end_ms: 183980\n- text: Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n  start_ms: 183980\n  end_ms: 186950\n- text: Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 186950\n  end_ms: 189260\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189260\n  end_ms: 191810\n- text: Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n  start_ms: 191810\n  end_ms: 195070\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n  start_ms: 195070\n  end_ms: 197840\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health food store\n  start_ms: 197840\n  end_ms: 200000\n- text: While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 200000\n  end_ms: 203170\n- text: Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 203170\n  end_ms: 205360\n- text: We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 205360\n  end_ms: 208530\n- text: So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n  start_ms: 208530\n  end_ms: 210610\n- text: When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n  start_ms: 210610\n  end_ms: 213460\n- text: When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n  start_ms: 213460\n  end_ms: 215620\n- text: Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 215620\n  end_ms: 218970\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 218970\n  end_ms: 221510\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221510\n  end_ms: 224260\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 224260\n  end_ms: 226680\n- text: 21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226680\n  end_ms: 229690\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229690\n  end_ms: 232070\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232070\n  end_ms: 235110\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 235110\n  end_ms: 237530\n- text: The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n  start_ms: 237530\n  end_ms: 239920\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n  start_ms: 239920\n  end_ms: 243120\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243120\n  end_ms: 244890\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 244890\n  end_ms: 248100\n- text: Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248100\n  end_ms: 250850\n- text: Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  start_ms: 250850\n  end_ms: 253660\n- text: Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  start_ms: 253660\n  end_ms: 256050\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 256050\n  end_ms: 257950\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  start_ms: 257950\n  end_ms: 261490\n- text: Oh-lay-hee\n  start_ms: 261490\n  end_ms: 263230\n- text: .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n  start_ms: 263230\n  end_ms: 269700\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269700\n  end_ms: 288630\n- text: Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 288630\n  end_ms: 291640\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n  start_ms: 291640\n  end_ms: 294290\n- text: No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n  start_ms: 294290\n  end_ms: 296630\n- text: It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n  start_ms: 296630\n  end_ms: 299510\n- text: Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n  start_ms: 299510\n  end_ms: 303530\n- text: And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n  start_ms: 303530\n  end_ms: 305930\n- text: No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n  start_ms: 305930\n  end_ms: 308980\n- text: Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n  start_ms: 308980\n  end_ms: 311170\n- text: Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n  start_ms: 311170\n  end_ms: 313750\n- text: Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n  start_ms: 313750\n  end_ms: 316790\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n  start_ms: 316790\n  end_ms: 318930\n- text: That's how it always is\n  start_ms: 318930\n  end_ms: 320270\n- text: We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n  start_ms: 320270\n  end_ms: 323070\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323070\nplain: |-\n  (Bust) yeah, this is the Fugees (ah, yeah)\n  Outsidaz in here (this happens on the block every day)\n  So, you wanna be a cowboy?\n  Everybody, get your guns and meet me in the back right now\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\n  Zen, zen-zen-zen, zen-zen-zen\n  You shot your bullet, but the bullet went\n  Desperado, new word for rudeboy\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef, Pace Won, yo, this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true desperado\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James call-up card\n  And get they bones fractured\n\n  You ain't got no guns, you off to the precinct\n  Inside tough guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  Woman cry, woman cry, son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like The Fall Guy\n  Caved in the grave 'cause you didn't know how to behave (huh)\n  Playin' cowboy, now you sleep with the slaves\n  Who's the desperado sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey?\n\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher (gimme that)\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist, I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, 'Clef I got the cash\n  Yo, let's skip town like Harlem Nights\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches, Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches, we like noches buenos\n  Then I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R&B singers perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours (yeah)\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other niggas in the barrio\n  From North to Ontario, tame us when we in stereo\n  'Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent you're no talent, 'cause you're blazin' in your saddle\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n\n  'Cause props is up (Rah Digga)\n  Digga's through the roof, burnin' niggas like I'm 90 proof\n  And for all y'all head beaters, the lead eaters\n  The cheaters, soon to be retreaters\n  While mamacitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the doobie and L rocks the Nubian twists\n  Nine-six, motherfuckers gettin' dissed\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boys\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (yeah)\n\n  When the Outs hooked up with the refugees\n  It be more niggas than the NAACP (mad niggas)\n  Comin' up on weed of all types\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes (c'mon)\n  You've got to know when to hold 'em (uh-huh)\n  Know when to fold 'em\n\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine, walk away with your gold mine\n  So ooh, ahh, ahh-chi-ka\n  Mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ma-ku-sa\n  Fuck the sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah, me and that kid, um, what's his name?\n  That would be me, Young Zee from No Brain (yeah)\n\n  Smokin' pure from the health food store\n  While my whore slap cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with Outs, it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million motherfuckers\n  So let's get high off the fu-gee-la\n  When the east is in the house like I'm Blahzay Blah'\n\n  When pandemonium strikes and midnight hits\n  Full moon splits soft niggas and the lunatics on some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor, city streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin', shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head says you dead by mañana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body drop behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge, never 'til we yawnin'\n  Gun play is regular, front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n  Life will keep existing as I'm shittin' on opponents\n\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy, grab your gun, boy\n  Oh-lay-hee\n  .45 by my side, do he live? No, the nigga die (cowboys)\n\n  Yo, man, it seem like we tryna get everybody, but they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'? (They got my nigga, man) but, you know (they shot my nigga)\n  No need to cry 'cause everything gon' be alright, man (you know who I am?)\n  It's gon' be alright, you know? You know, it's just ill, yo (they shoot my nigga, man)\n  Last night, you know, all I seen was bullets and feet runnin' and backs, you know\n  And when the smoke cleared it was a little joker on the ground, man\n  No, had to be no younger than 13, 14 years old (gonna kill somebody now)\n  Blood pourin' from his head, his mother on her (gonna kill 'em, watch, watch)\n  Mother on her knees cryin', you know cryin' her head off\n\n  Tomorrow's headline is gonna be \"The Death of Another Nigga\"\n  You know what I'm sayin'? \"The Death of Another Nigga\", you know?\n  That's how it always is\n  We cryin' for a afterlife while they just steal this one\n"},{"id":21177562,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Greatest Hits [Bonus Track Edition]","duration":284.891429,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Greatest Hits [Bonus Track Edition]\n  duration_ms: 284891\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":21068004,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"477 # The Score","duration":323.657143,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: '477 # The Score'\n  duration_ms: 323657\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":21314918,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Score - Live Bootleg","duration":210.94675,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Score - Live Bootleg\n  duration_ms: 210947\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":18991410,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"Greatest Hits [by Hillside]","duration":287.0105249,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: Greatest Hits [by Hillside]\n  duration_ms: 287011\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"},{"id":19329476,"name":"Cowboys","trackName":"Cowboys","artistName":"Fugees","albumName":"The Greatest Hits","duration":287.067563,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\nYou want to be a cowboy?\nEverybody get your guns\nAnd meet me outside right now\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nZen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\nYou shot your bullet\nBut the bullet went desperado\n(Do work for new boy)\nI pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\nWyclef\nPacewon\nYo this was how the West was won\nOur motto, a true Desperado\n\nRappers want to be actors\nSo they play the Jesse James character\nAnd get they bones fractured\nYou ain't got no guns\nYou off to the precinct\nInside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\nWoman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\nThrown off the building like the Fall guy\nCaved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\nPlayin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\nWho's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\nOn some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\nWith his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\nPacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\nThe town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\nSundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\nIf you see him coming, you better start running\nLike a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\nDynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\nYo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nWe make moves in stage coaches\nRah Digga likes the roaches\nIf anyone approaches\nWe be like noches, buenos\nAnd I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\nR & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\nMy style is perhaps one of the foulest\nI inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n(Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\nThe ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\nBust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n(From Newark to Ontario)\nBust us when we in stereo\nCause me and Rashida rock the battles\nIt's apparent, you're no talent\n'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\nWatch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\nThen bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\nCause props is up, Digga's through the roof\nBurnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\nAnd for all you head beaters\nThe lead eaters\nThe cheaters soon to be retreaters\nWhile mamasitas carry real heaters\nI rock the Dooby and\nL rocks the Nubian twists, 96\nMuthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nYeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\nIt be more niggers than the NAACP\nComin' up on weed of all type\nSmokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n(Come on)\n\n(You've got to know when to hold them,\nKnow when to fold them)\nI can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\nSteal your concubine\nWalk away with your goldmine\nSo ooh aaah achiga\nMamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\nFuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\nPush him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\nYeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\nThat would be me, Young Zee from no brain\nSmokin' pure from the health fodd store\nWhile my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\nFuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\nWe march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\nSo let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\nWhen the east is in the house\nLike I'm Blahzay-blah\n\nWhen pandemonium strikes, at midnight\nHit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\nOn some absurd shit\nYou talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\nNiggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\nStick and slide with vigor\nCity streets hot like liquor\n21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\nGot nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\nYour whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\nYou fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\nThe bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\nPop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\nPolice blew up the spot and locked the whole block\nMedina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\nGun players regular front page is the bonus\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\nLife will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n(Oleheee)\nEveryone wants to be a cowboy\nGrab the gun boys\n(Oleheee)\nForty-five by my side\nDo we live no nigger dies\n\nCowboys together\n\nYo man its seems like\nYou tryan get everybody\nBut they gettin' us\nYou know what I'm sayin'\nBut you know, no need to cry\n'Cause everything gonna be aight\nMan it's gonna be alright, you know\nIt's just ill, you know\nLast night all i see is bullet\nAnd feet running and backs you know\nAnd when the smoke clears\nLittle Joe on the ground\nHe had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\nWatching his own blood pouring from his head\nMother on her knees crying out her head off\nHell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\nThat's how it's always is\nWe crying for after life\nWhile it's just still this one","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.54] Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n[00:03.71] You want to be a cowboy?\n[00:06.85] Everybody get your guns\n[00:08.92] And meet me outside right now\n[00:10.57] (Oleheee)\n[00:12.71] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[00:14.73] Grab the gun boys\n[00:15.42] (Oleheee)\n[00:18.23] Forty-five by my side\n[00:19.11] Do we live no nigger dies\n[00:21.25] Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n[00:24.88] You shot your bullet\n[00:25.40] But the bullet went desperado\n[00:26.99] (Do work for new boy)\n[00:29.19] I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n[00:32.05] Wyclef\n[00:32.95] Pacewon\n[00:33.69] Yo this was how the West was won\n[00:35.24] Our motto, a true Desperado\n[00:37.31] Rappers want to be actors\n[00:39.10] So they play the Jesse James character\n[00:41.15] And get they bones fractured\n[00:43.03] You ain't got no guns\n[00:43.92] You off to the precinct\n[00:45.34] Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n[00:47.99] Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n[00:50.45] Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n[00:53.08] Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n[00:55.74] Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n[00:58.34] Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n[01:01.30] On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n[01:03.79] With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n[01:06.65] Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n[01:09.84] The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n[01:12.22] Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n[01:14.73] If you see him coming, you better start running\n[01:17.66] Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n[01:20.15] Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n[01:23.85] Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n[01:25.41] (Oleheee)\n[01:26.96] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[01:29.40] Grab the gun boys\n[01:30.79] (Oleheee)\n[01:32.76] Forty-five by my side\n[01:34.38] Do we live no nigger dies\n[01:36.17] We make moves in stage coaches\n[01:37.32] Rah Digga likes the roaches\n[01:39.33] If anyone approaches\n[01:40.27] We be like noches, buenos\n[01:42.06] And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n[01:43.94] R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n[01:46.87] My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n[01:49.11] I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n[01:52.36] (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n[01:55.29] The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n[01:57.56] Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n[02:00.55] (From Newark to Ontario)\n[02:01.83] Bust us when we in stereo\n[02:03.84] Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n[02:06.00] It's apparent, you're no talent\n[02:07.19] 'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n[02:08.75] Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n[02:10.10] Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n[02:13.53] Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n[02:17.19] Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n[02:18.32] And for all you head beaters\n[02:20.46] The lead eaters\n[02:21.06] The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n[02:22.37] While mamasitas carry real heaters\n[02:24.53] I rock the Dooby and\n[02:26.35] L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n[02:28.73] Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n[02:29.93] (Oleheee)\n[02:31.75] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[02:33.60] Grab the gun boys\n[02:35.20] (Oleheee)\n[02:36.72] Forty-five by my side\n[02:38.02] Do we live no nigger dies\n[02:40.33] Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n[02:42.60] It be more niggers than the NAACP\n[02:45.78] Comin' up on weed of all type\n[02:48.27] Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n[02:50.76] (Come on)\n[02:51.40] (You've got to know when to hold them,\n[02:53.53] Know when to fold them)\n[02:56.24] I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n[02:59.47] Steal your concubine\n[03:00.40] Walk away with your goldmine\n[03:02.09] So ooh aaah achiga\n[03:04.21] Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n[03:07.10] Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n[03:09.86] Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n[03:12.34] Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n[03:14.90] That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n[03:17.59] Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n[03:19.83] While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n[03:22.91] Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n[03:25.57] We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n[03:28.19] So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n[03:31.17] When the east is in the house\n[03:32.40] Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n[03:33.65] When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n[03:35.91] Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n[03:37.82] On some absurd shit\n[03:39.49] You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n[03:41.91] Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n[03:44.52] Stick and slide with vigor\n[03:46.00] City streets hot like liquor\n[03:46.94] 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n[03:49.65] Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n[03:52.20] Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n[03:54.92] You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n[03:57.83] The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n[04:00.15] Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n[04:03.53] Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n[04:05.67] Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n[04:08.31] Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n[04:11.19] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:14.06] Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n[04:16.68] (Oleheee)\n[04:18.59] Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n[04:20.16] Grab the gun boys\n[04:21.64] (Oleheee)\n[04:23.65] Forty-five by my side\n[04:24.94] Do we live no nigger dies\n[04:26.84] Cowboys together\n[04:31.15] \n[04:47.88] Yo man its seems like\n[04:50.45] You tryan get everybody\n[04:51.31] But they gettin' us\n[04:52.27] You know what I'm sayin'\n[04:53.22] But you know, no need to cry\n[04:55.52] 'Cause everything gonna be aight\n[04:57.15] Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n[04:59.07] It's just ill, you know\n[04:59.98] Last night all i see is bullet\n[05:01.80] And feet running and backs you know\n[05:04.28] And when the smoke clears\n[05:05.13] Little Joe on the ground\n[05:06.43] He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n[05:09.28] Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n[05:12.19] Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n[05:14.31] Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n[05:17.91] That's how it's always is\n[05:20.77] We crying for after life\n[05:22.24] While it's just still this one\n[05:23.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Cowboys\n  artist: Fugees\n  album: The Greatest Hits\n  duration_ms: 287068\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  start_ms: 1540\n  end_ms: 3710\n- text: You want to be a cowboy?\n  start_ms: 3710\n  end_ms: 6850\n- text: Everybody get your guns\n  start_ms: 6850\n  end_ms: 8920\n- text: And meet me outside right now\n  start_ms: 8920\n  end_ms: 10570\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 10570\n  end_ms: 12710\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 12710\n  end_ms: 14730\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 14730\n  end_ms: 15420\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 15420\n  end_ms: 18230\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 18230\n  end_ms: 19110\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 19110\n  end_ms: 21250\n- text: Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  start_ms: 21250\n  end_ms: 24880\n- text: You shot your bullet\n  start_ms: 24880\n  end_ms: 25400\n- text: But the bullet went desperado\n  start_ms: 25400\n  end_ms: 26990\n- text: (Do work for new boy)\n  start_ms: 26990\n  end_ms: 29190\n- text: I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  start_ms: 29190\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: Wyclef\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 32950\n- text: Pacewon\n  start_ms: 32950\n  end_ms: 33690\n- text: Yo this was how the West was won\n  start_ms: 33690\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: Our motto, a true Desperado\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37310\n- text: Rappers want to be actors\n  start_ms: 37310\n  end_ms: 39100\n- text: So they play the Jesse James character\n  start_ms: 39100\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: And get they bones fractured\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43030\n- text: You ain't got no guns\n  start_ms: 43030\n  end_ms: 43920\n- text: You off to the precinct\n  start_ms: 43920\n  end_ms: 45340\n- text: Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n  start_ms: 45340\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50450\n- text: Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  start_ms: 50450\n  end_ms: 53080\n- text: Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  start_ms: 53080\n  end_ms: 55740\n- text: Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n  start_ms: 55740\n  end_ms: 58340\n- text: Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  start_ms: 58340\n  end_ms: 61300\n- text: On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  start_ms: 61300\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69840\n- text: The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  start_ms: 69840\n  end_ms: 72220\n- text: Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  start_ms: 72220\n  end_ms: 74730\n- text: If you see him coming, you better start running\n  start_ms: 74730\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80150\n- text: Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  start_ms: 80150\n  end_ms: 83850\n- text: Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n  start_ms: 83850\n  end_ms: 85410\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 85410\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89400\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 89400\n  end_ms: 90790\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 90790\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 94380\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 94380\n  end_ms: 96170\n- text: We make moves in stage coaches\n  start_ms: 96170\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99330\n- text: If anyone approaches\n  start_ms: 99330\n  end_ms: 100270\n- text: We be like noches, buenos\n  start_ms: 100270\n  end_ms: 102060\n- text: And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  start_ms: 102060\n  end_ms: 103940\n- text: R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n  start_ms: 103940\n  end_ms: 106870\n- text: My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  start_ms: 106870\n  end_ms: 109110\n- text: I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  start_ms: 109110\n  end_ms: 112360\n- text: (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 112360\n  end_ms: 115290\n- text: The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n  start_ms: 115290\n  end_ms: 117560\n- text: Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  start_ms: 117560\n  end_ms: 120550\n- text: (From Newark to Ontario)\n  start_ms: 120550\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: Bust us when we in stereo\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 123840\n- text: Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  start_ms: 123840\n  end_ms: 126000\n- text: It's apparent, you're no talent\n  start_ms: 126000\n  end_ms: 127190\n- text: '''Cause your blazin'' in your saddle'\n  start_ms: 127190\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 130100\n- text: Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  start_ms: 130100\n  end_ms: 133530\n- text: Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  start_ms: 133530\n  end_ms: 137190\n- text: Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n  start_ms: 137190\n  end_ms: 138320\n- text: And for all you head beaters\n  start_ms: 138320\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: The lead eaters\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 142370\n- text: While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  start_ms: 142370\n  end_ms: 144530\n- text: I rock the Dooby and\n  start_ms: 144530\n  end_ms: 146350\n- text: L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  start_ms: 146350\n  end_ms: 148730\n- text: Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n  start_ms: 148730\n  end_ms: 149930\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 149930\n  end_ms: 151750\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 151750\n  end_ms: 153600\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 153600\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 156720\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 156720\n  end_ms: 158020\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 158020\n  end_ms: 160330\n- text: Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  start_ms: 160330\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: Comin' up on weed of all type\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 168270\n- text: Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  start_ms: 168270\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: (Come on)\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 171400\n- text: (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  start_ms: 171400\n  end_ms: 173530\n- text: Know when to fold them)\n  start_ms: 173530\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 179470\n- text: Steal your concubine\n  start_ms: 179470\n  end_ms: 180400\n- text: Walk away with your goldmine\n  start_ms: 180400\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: So ooh aaah achiga\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 184210\n- text: Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n  start_ms: 184210\n  end_ms: 187100\n- text: Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  start_ms: 187100\n  end_ms: 189860\n- text: Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  start_ms: 189860\n  end_ms: 192340\n- text: Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n  start_ms: 192340\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199830\n- text: While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  start_ms: 199830\n  end_ms: 202910\n- text: Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  start_ms: 202910\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 211170\n- text: When the east is in the house\n  start_ms: 211170\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215910\n- text: Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  start_ms: 215910\n  end_ms: 217820\n- text: On some absurd shit\n  start_ms: 217820\n  end_ms: 219490\n- text: You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  start_ms: 219490\n  end_ms: 221910\n- text: Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  start_ms: 221910\n  end_ms: 224520\n- text: Stick and slide with vigor\n  start_ms: 224520\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: City streets hot like liquor\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 226940\n- text: 21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  start_ms: 226940\n  end_ms: 229650\n- text: Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  start_ms: 229650\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234920\n- text: You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  start_ms: 234920\n  end_ms: 237830\n- text: The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  start_ms: 237830\n  end_ms: 240150\n- text: Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  start_ms: 240150\n  end_ms: 243530\n- text: Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  start_ms: 243530\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 248310\n- text: Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  start_ms: 248310\n  end_ms: 251190\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 251190\n  end_ms: 254060\n- text: Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  start_ms: 254060\n  end_ms: 256680\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 256680\n  end_ms: 258590\n- text: Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  start_ms: 258590\n  end_ms: 260160\n- text: Grab the gun boys\n  start_ms: 260160\n  end_ms: 261640\n- text: (Oleheee)\n  start_ms: 261640\n  end_ms: 263650\n- text: Forty-five by my side\n  start_ms: 263650\n  end_ms: 264940\n- text: Do we live no nigger dies\n  start_ms: 264940\n  end_ms: 266840\n- text: Cowboys together\n  start_ms: 266840\n  end_ms: 271150\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271150\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: Yo man its seems like\n  start_ms: 287880\n  end_ms: 290450\n- text: You tryan get everybody\n  start_ms: 290450\n  end_ms: 291310\n- text: But they gettin' us\n  start_ms: 291310\n  end_ms: 292270\n- text: You know what I'm sayin'\n  start_ms: 292270\n  end_ms: 293220\n- text: But you know, no need to cry\n  start_ms: 293220\n  end_ms: 295520\n- text: '''Cause everything gonna be aight'\n  start_ms: 295520\n  end_ms: 297150\n- text: Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  start_ms: 297150\n  end_ms: 299070\n- text: It's just ill, you know\n  start_ms: 299070\n  end_ms: 299980\n- text: Last night all i see is bullet\n  start_ms: 299980\n  end_ms: 301800\n- text: And feet running and backs you know\n  start_ms: 301800\n  end_ms: 304280\n- text: And when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 304280\n  end_ms: 305130\n- text: Little Joe on the ground\n  start_ms: 305130\n  end_ms: 306430\n- text: He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  start_ms: 306430\n  end_ms: 309280\n- text: Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  start_ms: 309280\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 314310\n- text: Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  start_ms: 314310\n  end_ms: 317910\n- text: That's how it's always is\n  start_ms: 317910\n  end_ms: 320770\n- text: We crying for after life\n  start_ms: 320770\n  end_ms: 322240\n- text: While it's just still this one\n  start_ms: 322240\n  end_ms: 323270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 323270\nplain: |-\n  Yes it's the Fugees, outsiders\n  You want to be a cowboy?\n  Everybody get your guns\n  And meet me outside right now\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen\n  You shot your bullet\n  But the bullet went desperado\n  (Do work for new boy)\n  I pull out my gun and plug two like Trugoy\n  Wyclef\n  Pacewon\n  Yo this was how the West was won\n  Our motto, a true Desperado\n\n  Rappers want to be actors\n  So they play the Jesse James character\n  And get they bones fractured\n  You ain't got no guns\n  You off to the precinct\n  Inside tuff guys are feminine like Sheena Easton\n\n  Woman cry, woman cry, Son still dies\n  Thrown off the building like the Fall guy\n  Caved in the grave cause you didn't know how to behave\n  Playin' cowboy now you sleep with the slaves\n\n  Who's the desperado, sellin' bottles in the alley\n  On some villain shit, wearin' a mask like Jim Carrey\n  With his gat cocked, stinkin' up the crack spot\n  Pacewon dies with both eyes on the jackpot\n\n  The town that I'm from beggars eat cat chowder\n  Sundance Kid is the everyday purse snatcher\n  If you see him coming, you better start running\n  Like a terrorist I guarantee you he'll be humming\n  Dynamite, dynamite, Clef I got the cash\n  Yo let's skip town like Harlem nights\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  We make moves in stage coaches\n  Rah Digga likes the roaches\n  If anyone approaches\n  We be like noches, buenos\n  And I compose a poem for the many gun-slingers\n  R & B singers, perpetrating guns with two fingers\n\n  My style is perhaps one of the foulest\n  I inhale large clouds of smoke through my chalice.\n  (Buckin' at stars) and write rhymes for hours\n  The ghetto missy, drinkin' whiskey sours\n\n  Bust this scenario, can't no other nigger in the barrio\n  (From Newark to Ontario)\n  Bust us when we in stereo\n  Cause me and Rashida rock the battles\n  It's apparent, you're no talent\n  'Cause your blazin' in your saddle\n\n  Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets\n  Then bounce with accountants that give me good stock tips\n  Cause props is up, Digga's through the roof\n  Burnin' niggers like I'm 90 proof\n\n  And for all you head beaters\n  The lead eaters\n  The cheaters soon to be retreaters\n  While mamasitas carry real heaters\n  I rock the Dooby and\n  L rocks the Nubian twists, 96\n  Muthafuckeras gettin' dissed\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Yeah, when the OUT's hooked up with the Refugees\n  It be more niggers than the NAACP\n  Comin' up on weed of all type\n  Smokin' home-grown out tobacco pipes\n  (Come on)\n\n  (You've got to know when to hold them,\n  Know when to fold them)\n  I can take the sunshine, piss in your wine\n  Steal your concubine\n  Walk away with your goldmine\n  So ooh aaah achiga\n  Mamase Mamasa Mamakusa\n\n  Fuck rhe sheriff, I shot John Wayne\n  Push him off the runaway train in the movie Shane\n  Yeah me and that kid, um \"What's his name?\"\n\n  That would be me, Young Zee from no brain\n  Smokin' pure from the health fodd store\n  While my whore slaps cops like Zsa Zsa Gabor\n  Fuck with OUT's it's like those Islam brothers\n  We march through your hood with a million muthafuckeras\n  So let's get high off the Fu-Gee-La\n  When the east is in the house\n  Like I'm Blahzay-blah\n\n  When pandemonium strikes, at midnight\n  Hit full moon splits soft niggas in a lunatic\n  On some absurd shit\n  You talk back, hustlin' crack don't make you bigger\n  Niggas who take your measurements quick, don't make it quicker\n  Stick and slide with vigor\n  City streets hot like liquor\n  21 gun salutin, shootin' niggas from the roof and\n  Got nerve to mouth about it and the weight you claim you movin'\n  Your whole style is loose and we gon' sew it like it's cotton\n\n  You fail to recognize that everybody could get gotten\n  The bounty on your head, says your dead by manana\n  Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot\n  Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block\n  Medina is the east side of town lounge never till we yawnin'\n  Gun players regular front page is the bonus\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n  Life will keep existing while I'm shitin' on the corners\n\n  (Oleheee)\n  Everyone wants to be a cowboy\n  Grab the gun boys\n  (Oleheee)\n  Forty-five by my side\n  Do we live no nigger dies\n\n  Cowboys together\n\n  Yo man its seems like\n  You tryan get everybody\n  But they gettin' us\n  You know what I'm sayin'\n  But you know, no need to cry\n  'Cause everything gonna be aight\n  Man it's gonna be alright, you know\n  It's just ill, you know\n  Last night all i see is bullet\n  And feet running and backs you know\n  And when the smoke clears\n  Little Joe on the ground\n  He had to be no younger than 13, 14 old\n  Watching his own blood pouring from his head\n  Mother on her knees crying out her head off\n  Hell nah, it's gonna be the death of another Nigga you know\n  That's how it's always is\n  We crying for after life\n  While it's just still this one\n"}]