The Fugees - How many mics



[1996]

How many mics

Pick up your microphones,

Pick up your microphones!

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.

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 attempts are futile,

oh 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

The Fugees - Ready or not

[1996]

Ready or not Ready or not, Here I come. You can't hide, Gonna find you, and take it slowly. Ready or not, Here I come. You can't hide Gonna find you and make you want me. Now that I escape sleep walk away. those who convolate knows the world they hate, Jails bars ain't golden gates, those who fake they brake when they meet they, four hundred pound mate if i could rule the world Everyone who have a gun and together of course we'd get the up in our their horse. I kick a rhyme drinking moon shine I poor sip on the concrete,  for the deceased but no don't weep, Wyclef in a state of sleep thinking about the robbeRY that I did last week. Money in the bag, bank a look like a drag. I wanna play with pelicans from here to Bagdad Gun blast, think fast,  I think I'm hit. My girl pinch's my hips to see if I still exist I think not, I send a letter to my friends A born again, hooligan only to be king again. Chorus Yo, I play my enemies like a game of chess where I rest no stress if you don't smoke cess, less i must confess my destany's manifest to some gortex and sweats. I make tracks like I'm homeless,  Rap orgies with Porgie and Bess, capture your bounty like Eliot Ness,YES! Bless you if you represent the FU but I hex you, with some witches vu if you do-do Voodo, I could what you do, EASY! Believe me, frontin' niggaz gives me heebe-geebes so why you imitatin' Al Capone? I be Nina Symone and defacating on your microphone. Chorus You can't run away from these styles I got Oh baby, hey baby cause I got a lot, oh yeah... Anywhere you go, my whole crew gonna know Oh baby, hey baby,  you can't hide from the black gold, no... Ready or not, refugees taking over The Buffalo soldier, dread like rasta On the twelve hour flyby in my bomber crews went for cover now they under pushin' up flowers Superfly, true lies do or dies toss me high, only profile with my crew from Lacaille I refugee from Guatanamo Bay, dance around the border like I'm Cassius Clay. Chorus.

Pronto o no Pronto o no, arrivo. Non puoi nasconderti, ti sto trovando, prenditela comoda. Pronto o no, arrivo. Non puoi nasconderti, ti sto trovando e farò in modo che tu mi voglia. Ora che scappo il sonno si allontana. Coloro che convolano conoscono il mondo che odiano, le sbarre del carcere non sono cancelli d'oro, coloro che fingono distruggono (la loro maschera) quando si incontrano, 400 sterline vanno in coppia se io potessi governare il mondo chiunque abbia una pistola e insieme di sicuro  otterremmo un giro sul nostro, loro cavallo. Tengo il ritmo con il piede  bevendo un moonshine cocktail. Io povero prendo a sorsi il concreto, per i defunti  ma no, non piangere, Wyclef assonnato sta pensando alla rapina che ho fatto la scorsa settimana. Soldi in borsa, la banca sembra un impedimento. Voglio giocare con i pellicani da qui a Bagdad Pistola a getto, penso veloce, penso di essere stato colpito. La mia ragazza mi morde le labbra per vedere se esisto ancora penso di no, mando una lettera ai miei amici sono nato di nuovo, un teppista può solo essere di nuovo un re. Rit. Yo, gioco con i miei nemici come ad una partita di scacchi dove riposo, niente stress se non fumi senza sosta devo confessare il mio destino manifesto  ad alcuni gortex e sudati. Faccio i brani di un senza tetto, orgie rap con Porgie e Bess,  catturo ls tua generosità come Eliot Ness, SI! Ti benedico come se rappresentassi il FU ma io ti strego, con alcune streghe vu se tu fai, fai Voodo, potrei fare quello che fai, FACILMENTE! credimi, i neri affacciati mi danno heebe-geebes quindi perchè imiti Al Capone? Sono Nina Symone e ti cago sul microfono. Rit.  Non puoi scappare da questi stili che ho ottenuto Oh Baby, ehi Baby perchè ne ho un sacco, oh si... dovunque tu vada, la mia intera crew lo saprà Oh Baby, ehi Baby,  non puoi nasconderti dall'oro nero, no.... Pronto o no, i profughi assumono il controllo il soldato Buffalo ha i dreadlocks come i fedeli del rastafarianesimo alla 12° ora vola nel mio bombardiere le crews sono venute per coprire adesso puntano i fiori in alto supervolo, dicono vere bugie o muoiono mi lanciano in alto,  unico profilo con la mia crew da Lacaille io scappo dalla baia di Guantanamo ballando intorno alla frontiera come se fossi Cassius Clay. Rit.



The Fugees - Red intro



[1996]

Red intro Yo, this fucker I was wit the other day, I was chillin' with Scott and the minute that we got in front of our crib with a shotgun. Cause jokers gonna be bustin' up in there trying to get food, clothing, shelter, TV's, forks, radios or whatever they can get there hands on. Shit is getting mad ill out here man. Joker's running out here like with MASKS on; I was with my man Pee, he think he like Charlie Chan or Robert De Niro or Bruce Lee or some shit, jumping from behind trees on Muhfuckas, like Cowboys BANG BANG or whatever you know.

Introduzione rossa Yo, questo stronzo con cui ero l'altro giorno, stavo gelando insieme a Scott nell'attimo in cui siamo arrivati di fronte alla nostra mangiatoia con un fucile da caccia. Perchè i buffoni litigheranno furiosamente qui provando a procurarsi cibo, vestiario, riparo, televisioni, forchette, radio o qualsiasi cosa sulla quale possano mettere le mani. Merda si sta incazzando l'uomo malato qui. Il buffone sta correndo fuori da qui come con delle maschere sulla faccia; ero con il mio amico Pee, pensa di essere come Charlie Chan o Robert De Niro o Bruce Lee o qualche (altra) merda, balzando da dietro gli alberi sui figli di puttana, come cowboys BANG BANG o qualunque cosa tu conosca.

The Fugees - Elenco Brani

• Ready or not
• Red intro