Текст, перевод и аккорды “Boof Baf”
- (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 Let me clock the block as I pull fo'-five Boof Baf - I cut the block with gat-stops I used to play hookie just to see how good an emcee was He said I bust a battle - aight, I still took a gun No cheeba, cheeba just a Libra on a last ride I waited so long that I thought I died and came back alive So hear the spirits, many fear, ?Sir New Stosser? This the new thing under the Sun, when I come, I come Bam-bam, alakazam, he grabbed the mic up the block they ran, I came back with the bag cause that's my momma man I'm just patrollin', move off in the block but the spot that I clock, you get shot if your numbers' about So don't get caught in the fast lane, the fast lane A just remain yourself and be the same Cause many rapper-days, say nuttin' for nuttin' So here's sut-um to take you from the am to the pm (Pras) Cause a imitator could never be greater than the creator whose the originator, step up i
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