Tytuł: How Many Mics

• Wykonawca: Fugees
• Wyświetleń: 590

[CHORUS (REPEAT 2X):]
  How Many Mic's Do We Rip on the Daily
  Say me say Many Moni, Say me say manymanymany
  
  [LAURYN:]
  I get mad frustrated when I rhyme
  Thinking of all the kids who try to do this
  For all the wrong reasons
  Seasons change, mad things rearrange
  But it all stays the same like the love Doctor Strange
  I'm tame like the rapper,
  Get red like a snapper when they do that
  Got your whole block saying"TRUE DAT"
  If only they knew that,
  It was you who was irregular,
  Sold your soul for some secular
  Muzak that's wack,
  Plus you use that loop over and over
  Claiming that you got a new style
  Your attempts are futile, Ooo chile
  Your puerile,
  Brain waves are sterile
  You can't create, you just wait to take, my tape's
  Laced with malice
  Hands get calloused
  From grippin' microphones from here to Dallas
  Go ask Alice if you don't believe me,
  I get Inner Visions like Stevie
  See me, ascend from the chalice like the weed be
  Indeed be like Khalil Muhammad
  MC's make me vomit
  I get controversial
  Freak your style with no rehearsal
  Ooo, contraire mon frere
  Don't you even go there
  Me without a mic is like a beat without a snare
  I dare to tear into your ego,
  We go, way back like some ganja and pelequo
  Or Coleco-Vision
  My mind makes incisions in your anatomy
  And I'll back this with Deuteronomy
  Or Leviticus, God made this word
  You can't get with this
  Sweet like licorice,
  Dangerous like syphillis, yeah.
  
  [CHORUS (REPEAT 4X):]
  How Many Mic's Do We Rip on the Daily
  Say me say Many Moni, Say me say manymanymany
  
  [CLEF:]
  I used to be underrated
  Now I take iron, makes my s*** constipated
  I'm more concentrated.
  So on my day off,
  With David Sonnenberg I play golf
  Run through Crown Heights screaming out Mazel Tov
  Problem with no man
  Before black, I'm first human
  Appetite to write like Frederick Douglass with a slave hand
  Street pressure word to poppa, I ain't goin' under
  One day I'll have a label and make deals with Tommy Motolla
  Momma always told me "You're one in a million"
  Always watch your back, never tangle with Haitian Sicilians
  Now I got a record deal, "How does it feel?"
  I'm never gonna survive unless I get crazy like Seal.
  Cause the whole world's out of order
  So at night the fiend's dance on Grease with John Travolta
  One got slaughtered as he coughed blood from his mouth
  The other tried to duck and caught a left with my Guiness Stout
  Brother brother can't you get this through your head
  It's a set up by the fed's they're scoping us with their Infra-reds.
  
  [CHORUS (REPEAT 3X):]
  How Many Mic's Do We Rip on the Daily
  Say Me Say Many Moni Say me say manymanymany
  
  [PRAZ:]
  Too many MC's not enough Mic's
  Exit your show like I exit the turnpike
  Dice and dynamite like Dolomite
  Double deuce delight, I don't Dick Van Dyke
  Startlight to starbrite the freaks come out at night
  Like my man Wyclef (I wear my sunglasses at night)
  And my panache will mosh your entourage
  Squash your squad and hide your body under my garage.
  And when the cops come lookin'
  I'll be bookin' to Brooklyn
  Leave the trails broken flippin' tokens to Hoboken
  A clean getaway like Alec Baldwin
  Drivin' in my fast car playin' Tracy Chapman
  
  [CHORUS (Repeat to end):]
  How Many Mic's Do We Rip on the Daily
  Say me say Many Moni, Say me say manymanymany