Wyclef Jean › Lyrics › Party to Damascus

Yeah
It's over, uh huh
Missy with the preacher's son, uh huh
It's over, I told ya
J-Clef, let's go
Yeah, hey yo Clef
Uh oh, these m************ ain't ready for this s***

Me and Clef on this track what you want?
Heard you wanna battle us both I hope you don't
Hand me my mic, two woofers in my trunk
Sound like gonk-ga-gonk-ga-gonk-ga-gonk-ga-ga-ga-gonk
I drink that Dom Perignon
I drink that shot of Patron to turn me on
I got that red eye bomb, get you stoned
I got them gunshots, head knock 'til my bed stop

Hey, I'm from a place called New Jersey, they call it the New Jerusalem
I'm only here for one night girl, I'm on the plane tomorrow
But I love the way you move girl and do that belly dancin'
So let's play you're my teacher and won't you give me my first lesson

I teach you what you want
The things you need to know
Come in and shut the door
Let's get this party goin'
Baby let me show you, how you can satisfy a girl needs, yeah

In the mornin', in the evenin'
In the nighttime, gotta have it
It's a feelin', I can't fight it
You got me speakin' another language
Bo habibi, Nishtage'a
Bo habibi, Nishtage'a
It's official, raise your glasses
'Cause this party gonna go to Damascus

Yeah, she said her dad's in the Army
And he's the number one sniper
And if he ever found out
He'd have me swimmin' with the fishes in the water
Now I'ma say somethin' crazy girl
I love you
I know we meetin' for the first time in the club
But this feels like a deja vu

I teach you what you want
The things you need to know
Come in and shut the door
Let's get this party goin'
Baby let me show you, how you can satisfy a girl needs

In the mornin', in the evenin'
In the nighttime, gotta have it
It's a feelin', I can't fight it
You got me speakin' another language
Bo habibi, Nishtage'a
Bo habibi, Nishtage'a
It's official, raise your glasses
'Cause this party gonna go to Damascus

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
Friday, Saturday, Sunday, gotta have it
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
Friday, Saturday, Sunday, gotta have it

W-Y to the Clef
Boy I keep it realer than the t****** on my chest
"Milk does your body good," come on take a sip
Like, it taste good don't it
You's a fine dreadlock, come on get
How many times Missy crushed the very best?
How many bombs on my summer, Funk Flex?
As many times as Teddy Reilly said, "Yep, yep"

Did you get it? I stays on your mind like a fitted
Like Diddy make you walk for cheese cakes to the city
Rough chick, dirty jeans, ain't nothin' pretty
Me and Clef steppin' to the mic to get busy

In the mornin', in the evenin'
In the nighttime, gotta have it
It's a feelin', I can't fight it
You got me speakin' another language
Bo habibi, Nishtage'a
Bo habibi, Nishtage'a
It's official, raise your glasses
'Cause this party gonna go to Damascus

Yeah, hey yo Clef
What's up Missy?
You know I love ya girl
What's up Missy?
Let's go
I got the guitar soundin' like a sitar
Holy, holy, Jerry Wonder I need some security
Call police