(Wyclef Jean)
I`m Chill-Master-Nell of a thousand emcees
But how are you gonna tell the real I bust from these fo` knees
Cause he sees everyone with a deal with a record company
They go home, they write a rhyme, they think they ready to battle better
Some write forward, some write backward
I wait for them to get the cheeba-ganja then reverse yo
With a verse that`s worse than the last one
some say BOO! he`s the po he used to diss Jamaicans
and Hatians cause you thought I was American
Ay Pras, remember that song they sang, YEAH!!
Go back to Jamaica, what`s good is what`s new
But now we move off with Uncle`s with a trail-crate of COOLER!!
(Pras)
I`m from the island, the island I`m from is the strong island
Emcees must be right, when I syke from lack of freestylin`
Mind must be sharp until my holler girl, I get all in
Black stylin`, ridin`, Boof`ll be trappin`
When they come to battle champ see the shoes flappin`
Huh, coolin` while I`m rappin`
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(Wyclef Jean)
Said if you write with pencil you must write with (PEN!)
If you have a rooster you must have a (HEN!)
Five plus five you know that equals to (TEN!)
Then spit the yellow man, check it to groove-to-groove site
(Pras)
One, two, I throw a flow to catch it
Three, four, back she know before the track miss
I FUCK ya when style go, to wreck this static
(But yo sister, grab the mic and do damage!!)
(Lauryn Hill)
Aiyyo I used to drive a hooptie, check me down swoopie
Rollin` with the Jones` but I different homozones
See life`s got no value if I ain`t got no statue
Hannibal heads, I be the kid from Timbuktu
One, two, zip me-me, check the mic I`m ready
Three, four, please the army - Oh God, with Uzi`s
So what, converse man, the chicken or the hoodie
get the - hoodie came first then mans` then would be Nancy
To kill the Jesse James rough, step back, check your steps
I`ll love your theory like the chi-chi-woo-woo-boogie-man
You say I`m balanced but you`re Silence of the Lambs
And when I call your name I say Candyman, Candyman, Candyman
Cause I can, can, yes, I can, can
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(Wyclef Jean)
Well I`m on fire (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE)
So let me re-light your viacom
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)
All that movin` I call my nozzle you see I was an electronic
You listen to your lyrics in chime - your Panasonic
The ly-ly-ly-lyricaler, the di-di-di-digital
Pras take the mic man, you know you`re really critical
(Pras)
Stall emcees-soft-put `em up for-er-Death Row (yeah)
Rhyme and cultural, style and never old
Slashed the priest-fool, ooh, you`re filth-swolled
(Wyclef Jean)
I say no to spliff but my friends still smoke ?Juano?
Coolin` it, coolin` it, coolin` it
Somebody chuck me-who the who`d you think?
hold the mic, hold the mic, I shoot `em
down with my last one, last one, last one, last one and
(Boo-shoo-coo-coo!!) SMOKE!!
I got my bullet-proof and now to send my bozack
(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy
(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try
(Mad Spider)
Rich rap come from the brothers in the neigborhood
who used to rap on a Polaroid - here comes Father Joe
