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| The Fugees - How Many Mics |
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"How Many Mics" [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 |
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