How Many Mics

[Intro: Wyclef] Pick up your microphones... Pick up your microphones... [Hook:] 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] I get mad frustrated when I rhyme Thinkin' of all the 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 Sold your soul for some secular muzak 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 tapes Laced with malice, hands get calloused, from gripping microphones From here to Dallas Go ask Alice if you don't believe me I get Inner Visions like Stevie See me, essential from the chalice like the weed be Indeed be like Khalid Muhammad MCs make me vomit; I get controversial Freak your style with no rehearsal Au 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 rhymes make 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 [Hook] [Verse Two: Wyclef] I used to be underrated, now I take iron, makes my shit 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 This is set up by the fed's they're scoping us with their Infra-reds [Hook] [Verse Three: Pras] Too many MC's not enough mikes Exit your show like I exit the turnpike Dicin' dynamite like Dolomite Double do's been like I don't Dick Van Dyke Star light to star bright the freaks come out at night Like my man Wyclef - "I wear my sunglasses at night" And my panache will mosh your entourage Squash the squad and hide their bodies under my garage And when the cops come lookin, I be bookin to Brooklyn Leave the trails broken flippin' tokens to Hoboken A clean getaway like Alec Baldwin Driving in my fast car playing Tracy Chapman