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Mmmmmmmmm... yeah[wyclef](pj’s!) I was born in the pj’sSo I gotta rep for the pj’sThe elevators with the pissy hallwaysBangin on the project walls, all day[verse 1]Yo if it wasn’t for the pj’s y’all probably never heard of meY’all be like, who the hell is wyclef, and what’s a fugee? I’d probably be standin on a corner - watch you approachSteal ya dope, sell ya coke, then snatch ya ropeRun for brokes with the cash and the jewelsBows-eye, I hold my breath when I shootThe reason you should hold ya breath; cuz most thugsWhen they breathe and shoot tecs, they aim right but shoot leftNow they flesh being swept off the surfaceIf you ain’t b.i.g., you ain’t notoriousSo why ya man reckless, side-ballin like he holdin heatSomeone bring him a bed, for the permanent sleepWeight beneath jacob’s latter and the aftermathDon’t matter if you use a desert eagle as your armorBlood splatter, glass shatter through the project slumsAnother one in the obituary column son[chorus](pj’s!) I was born in the pj’sSo I gotta rep for the pj’sThe elevators with the pissy hallwaysBangin on the project walls, all day(pj’s) I gotta make noise for the pj’sWrote my first rhyme in the pj’sYou can hear it in my speech, I’m from the pj’sThe pj’s! pj’s[verse 2]Before I was signed, I used to move on the blockAll I wanted to do was rhyme, rhyme, rhymeLine for line, I make the blind man walk in a straight lineTo prison - and take a message to shynePeace God from the pj’s to ground zeroIt’s a hardknock life but the sun’ll come out tomorrowWalk with a shadow through ghettos, playin in every boroughYou would think rap was rock they way I carry heavy metalIt such a shame, cocaine in ya veins, screaminTeam spirit grippin the shottie like kurt cobaineIn the projects god, nuttin come easyGotta deal with the grimy, greasy, the sleasyMove like a professional, young thug funeralWattchu thought this was another pepsi commercial? Nah it’s the art of war, when you least expected itWyclef the president, the pj’s elected him[chorus][verse 3]Yeah, and to the teachers that said I wouldn’t liveAnd my remains would be found under the verizano bridgeWell I’m alive teach! so put ya theory to restI ain’t makaveli but I might fake my deathMake no mistake, I’m a hip-hop artistBefore the diamond in the billboard, the hood charted itSurburbia bought it, we bootlegged it, we couldn’t afford itCuz in the pj’s we undergroudn like black marketsThe ’p’ stand for public housingThe ’r’s for respect that ya get, when ya hold down ya setThe ’o’s for ounces that we flip into ki’sThe ’j’s for the judgement handed by the ju-ryThe ’e’ is for enter, at your own riskYou know the ’c’ - that’s for the cats that’s out to get richAnd the ’t’... trust no oneAnd the ’s’ is for the snitchers - you know the outcome...[chorus]

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