Lyrics PJ's - Wyclef Jean, Governor, Prolific

PJ's

So I gotta rep for the PJ’s
The elevators with the pissy hallways
Bangin on the project walls, all day
Yo if it wasn’t for the PJ’s y’all probably never heard of me
Y’all be like, «Who the hell is Wyclef, and what’s a Fugee?»
I’d probably be standin on a corner — watch you approach
Steal ya dope, sell ya coke, then snatch ya rope
Run for brokes with the cash and the jewels
Bullseye, I hold my breath when I shoot
The reason you should hold ya breath — cuz most thugs
When they breathe and shoot tecs, they aim right but shoot left
Now they flesh being swept off the surface
If you ain’t B.I.G., you ain’t Notorious
So why ya man reckless, side-ballin like he holding heat
Someone bring him a bed, for the permanent sleep
Weight beneath Jacob’s Ladder and the Aftermath
Don’t matter if you use a desert eagle as your armor
Blood splatter, glass shatter through the project slums
Another one in the obituary column, son
(PJ's!) I was born in the PJ’s
So I gotta rep for the PJ’s
The elevators with the pissy hallways
Bangin on the project walls, all day
(PJ's) I gotta make noise for the PJ’s
Wrote my first rhyme in the PJ’s
You can hear it in my speech, I’m from the PJ’s
The PJ’s!
PJ’s
Before I was signed, I used to move on the crime
All I wanted to do was rhyme, rhyme, rhyme
Line for line, I make the blind man walk in a straight line
To prison — and take a message to Shyne
Peace God from the PJ’s to Ground Zero
It’s a «Hardknock Life» but «The Sun’ll Come Out Tomorrow»
Walk with a shadow through ghettos, playin in every borough
You would think rap was rock the way I carry heavy metal
It such a shame, cocaine in ya veins, screamin
«Teen Spirit» grippin the shottie like Kurt Cobain
In the projects God, nuttin come easy
Gotta deal with the grimy, greasy, the sleasy
Move like a professional, young thug funeral
What, you thought this was another Pepsi commercial?
Nah it’s the Art of War, when you least expected it
Wyclef the president, the PJ’s elected him
Yeah, and to the teachers that said I wouldn’t live
And my remains would be found under the Verrazano Bridge
Well I’m alive teach!
So put ya theory to rest
I ain’t Makaveli but I might fake my death
Make no mistake, I’m a hip-hop artist
Before the diamond in the Billboard, the hood charted it
Surburbia bought it, we bootlegged it, we couldn’t afford it
Cuz in the PJ’s we underground like black markets
The 'P' stand for public housing
The 'R's for respect that ya get, when ya hold down ya set
The 'O's for ounces that we flip into ki’s
The 'J's for the judgement handed by the ju-ry
The 'E' is for enter, at your own risk
You know the 'C' - that’s for the cats that’s out to get rich
And the 'T'… trust no one
And the 'S' is for the snitches — you know the outcome…