Let um feel the
beat first
I'm bout to come
through your stereo
Should I rhyme
or start with the hook?
Start with the
hook
To my people who
don't wanna go to work
Thank God it's
Friday
Cover me she bout
to put up her skirt
Thank God it's
Friday
Do Your mom now
you act so berserk
Thank God it's
Friday
What's the track,
what's the track girl?
She don't wanna,
she don't wanna work on Monday
(I wanna thank
my hood)
For makin me a
star before I had fast cars
And couldn't tell
the difference between Whoppers and caviar
Before the fame
Way before things
changed
All I wanted to
do was freestyle and get a name
I used to work
at the fast food restaurant
For minimum wage
Dreamin I'm on
stage
At 17 I left the
house
Cause my father
was a minister
And I didn't want
the Marvin route
What's goin on?
Today to sell
a song you need a video with soft porn
MC's in the industry
You wanna tip?
Don't let them
pimp you like Goldy
And tell Sony
they better have my money
Cause I play wit
the Comodores and be like Lionel Richie
Low Income, I
stay so hungry that if 50 Cent came to rob me
He'd be part of
my charity
(I wanna thank
my hood)
[Chorus]
To my people cuttin
hair in the shops
Thank God it's
Friday
To the thugs sweatin
up in the chop shops
Yo, it's Friday
To my people that
don't got no job
Everyday it's
Friday
What's the track,
what's the track yo?
She don't wanna,
she don't wanna work on Monday
All the Ladies
sing
I don't feel
Like cookin you
no breakfast
This mornin
(Wyclef: All my
hoodlums say)
Well, you don't
have
to cook me breakfast
Cause your girlfriend
will
After you leave
(I wanna thank
my hood)
For the love of
money
I know kids who'll
slit your throat
Friday the 13th
Jason wit a trench
coat
But you can't
scare Suzie
Cause her man
got so many uzi's you'd think he was Cadivi
Meanwhile, she's
getting her nails done
Crystal clear
so they could shine like wit diamonds
It's such a shame
what happened last week
Man they found
her under the sheets with a letter from the Son of Sam
It said to tell
New York I ain't sleepin
You want to be
clubbin then you better pack your heat in
And to my man
G Swar Rest in Piece
I still poor liquor
1 draw on the
cocoa leaf
Inhale, exhale
smoke grasses
Polices in the
area, but ain't no need to panic
You wit Wyclef
you getting in
If not, then we
gonna make CNN
(I wanna thank
my hood)
To my people who
don't wanna go to work
Thank God it's
Friday
Cover me she bout
to put up her skirt
Thank God it's
Friday
Do your mom know
you act so berserk?
Thank God it's
Friday
What's the track,
what's the track girl?
She don't wanna
she don't wanna work on Monday
Yo, to my people
cuttin here in the shops
Thank God it's
Friday
To the thugs sweatin
up in the chop shops
Yo, it's Friday
To my people who
don't got no job
Everyday it's
Friday
What's the track,
what's the track yo?
She don't wanna
she don't wanna work on Monday
All the Ladies
sing
I don't feel
Like cookin you
no breakfast
This mornin
(Wyclef: All my
hoodlums say)
Well, you don't
have
to cook me breakfast
Cause your girlfriend
will
After you leave
Guitar Solo
(Daddy, play that guitar)
©
Wyclef Jean 1997 Extrait de l'album "The Ecleftic".
.