How Many Emcee's Songtext

von Lauryn Hill

Wyclef jean
Pick up your microphones
Pick up your microphones
Wyclef/pras
How many mics do we rip on the daily
Say, me say many money say me say many many many
How many mics do we rip on the daily
Many money say me say many many many
One: lauryn hill
I get mad frustrated when I rhyme
Thinkin of all them kids that try to do this for all the wrong reasons
Season 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
Soldier soul for some secular muzac that's whack
Plus you use that, loop, over and over
Claiming that you got a new style, your atempts are futile, oooh child
Your puerile, brain waves are sterile
You can't create you just wait to take, my take
Laced with malice, hands get callous, from ripping microphones
From here to dallas go ask alice if you don't believe me
I get innovisions like stevie
See me, a sin from the chalice, like the weed be
Indeed we like kalid mohammed mc's make me vomit
I get controversial, freaky style with no rehearsal
Au contraire mon frere, don't you even go there
Me without a mike is like a beat without a snare
I dare to tear into your ego, we go, way back
Like some ganja and palequo or colecovision
My minds make incisions in your anatomy
And I back this with deuteronomy or leviticus
God made this word, you can't get with this
Sweet like licorice, dangerous like syphillis, yeah