FUGEES – HOW MANY MICS

Lyrics

Intro: Wyclef Jean
Pick up your microphones
Pick up your microphones
Chorus: 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
Verse 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
Chorus
Verse Two: Wyclef Jean
I used to be underrated, now I take iron, makes my shit constipated
I'm more concentrated, so on my day off with David Sanonburg I play
golf
Run through Crown Heights screaming out "Mazeltoff!"
Problem with noman before black I'm first hu-man
Appetite to write, like Frederick Douglass with a slave hand
Street pressure, word to papa I ain't going under
One day I have a label and make deals with Tommy Mottola
Mama always told me, "Your one in a million,
Always watch our back, never tango 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 worlds' out a order
So at night the feins dance on grease with John Travolta
One got slaughtered as he caught blood from his mouth
The other tried to duck and caught a left with my Guinness stout
Brother, brother can't you get this through your head
It's a setup by the feds, their scoping us with their infrareds
Chorus
Verse Three: Prazwell
Too many MC's not enough mikes, exit your show like I exit the
turnpike
Dice and dynomite like Dolomite, double do's been like I don't Dick
Van Dyke
Starlight to starbrite the freaks come out at night
Like my man Wyclef-"I wear my sunglasses at night"
And my ponage with martial encourage
Squash the squad and hide their bodies under my garage
And when the cops come lookin, I be bookin to Brooklyn
Beat the trails broken flipping tokens to Hoboken
A clean Getaway like Alec Baldwin
Driving in my fast car playing Tracy Chapman
Chorus
Many, many money many many many
Many, many money, ha, ha, ha

Paroles (Traduction)

Introduction : Wyclef Jean
Prenez vos microphones
Prenez vos microphones
Refrain : Wyclef/Pras
Combien de micros déchirons-nous chaque jour
Dis, je dis beaucoup d'argent, dis-moi, je dis beaucoup beaucoup beaucoup
Combien de micros déchirons-nous chaque jour
Beaucoup d'argent, dis-moi, je dis beaucoup beaucoup beaucoup
Couplet un : Lauryn Hill
Je suis frustrée quand je fais du rap
Pensant à tous ces enfants qui essaient de le faire pour de mauvaises raisons
Les saisons changent, beaucoup de choses se réarrangent
Mais tout reste pareil, comme l'amour, docteur étrange
Je suis calme comme le rappeur, deviens rouge comme une crevette, quand ils font ça
Tout ton quartier dit "c'est vrai"
Si seulement ils savaient que c'était toi qui était irrégulier
Vendre son âme pour de la musique séculière bidon
En plus, tu utilises ce boucle, encore et encore
Prétendant avoir un nouveau style, tes tentatives sont futiles, oh enfant
Tes ondes cérébrales sont stériles
Tu ne peux pas créer, tu attends juste de prendre, ma prise
Emplie de malice, les mains s'endurcissent, à force de déchirer les micros
D'ici à Dallas, demande à Alice si tu ne me crois pas
J'ai des visions innovantes comme Stevie
Regarde-moi, un péché du calice, comme l'herbe
En effet, on aime Kalid Mohammed, les MC's me font vomir
Je deviens controversé, style délirant sans répétition
Au contraire mon frère, ne t'aventure même pas là
Moi sans micro, c'est comme une musique sans caisse claire
Je défie de déchirer ton ego, on y va, depuis longtemps
Comme de l'herbe et du palequo ou ColecoVision
Mon esprit fait des incisions dans ton anatomie
Et je soutiens cela avec le Deutéronome ou le Lévitique
Dieu a créé

Thématique Une charge contre l'industrie musicale

Style Rap

Keywords Hit planétaire, Meilleur album rap

Entités normées Killing Me Softly, Lauryn Hill, Roberta Flack, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, The Score