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Boof baf
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Current song lyrics
(Wyclef Jean)<br>I´m Chill-Master-Nell of a thousand emcees<br>But how are you gonna tell the real I bust from these fo´ knees<br>Cause he sees everyone with a deal with a record company<br>They go home, they write a rhyme, they think they ready to battle better<br>Some write forward, some write backward<br>I wait for them to get the cheeba-ganja then reverse yo<br>With a verse that´s worse than the last one<br>some say BOO! he´s the po he used to diss Jamaicans<br>and Hatians cause you thought I was American<br>Ay Pras, remember that song they sang, YEAH!!<br>Go back to Jamaica, what´s good is what´s new<br>But now we move off with Uncle´s with a trail-crate of COOLER!!<br><br>(Pras)<br>I´m from the island, the island I´m from is the strong island<br>Emcees must be right, when I syke from lack of freestylin´<br>Mind must be sharp until my holler girl, I get all in<br>Black stylin´, ridin´, Boof´ll be trappin´<br>When they come to battle champ see the shoes flappin´<br>Huh, coolin´ while I´m rappin´<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>Said if you write with pencil you must write with (PEN!)<br>If you have a rooster you must have a (HEN!)<br>Five plus five you know that equals to (TEN!)<br>Then spit the yellow man, check it to groove-to-groove site<br><br>(Pras)<br>One, two, I throw a flow to catch it<br>Three, four, back she know before the track miss<br>I FUCK ya when style go, to wreck this static<br>(But yo sister, grab the mic and do damage!!)<br><br>(Lauryn Hill)<br>Aiyyo I used to drive a hooptie, check me down swoopie<br>Rollin´ with the Jones´ but I different homozones<br>See life´s got no value if I ain´t got no statue<br>Hannibal heads, I be the kid from "Timbuktu"<br>One, two, zip me-me, check the mic I´m ready<br>Three, four, please the army - "Oh God", with Uzi´s<br>So what, converse man, the chicken or the hoodie<br>get the - hoodie came first then mans´ then would be Nancy<br>To kill the Jesse James rough, step back, check your steps<br>I´ll love your theory like the chi-chi-woo-woo-boogie-man<br>You say I´m balanced but you´re Silence of the Lambs<br>And when I call your name I say Candyman, Candyman, Candyman<br>Cause I can, can, yes, I can, can<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>Well I´m on fire (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE)<br>So let me re-light your viacom<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>All that movin´ I call my nozzle you see I was an electronic<br>You listen to your lyrics in chime - your Panasonic<br><br>The ly-ly-ly-lyricaler, the di-di-di-digital<br>Pras take the mic man, you know you´re really critical<br><br>(Pras)<br>Stall emcees-soft-put ´em up for-er-Death Row (yeah)<br>Rhyme and cultural, style and never old<br>Slashed the priest-fool, ooh, you´re filth-swolled<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>I say no to spliff but my friends still smoke ?Juano?<br>Coolin´ it, coolin´ it, coolin´ it<br>Somebody chuck me-who the who´d you think?<br>hold the mic, hold the mic, I shoot ´em<br>down with my last one, last one, last one, last one and<br>(Boo-shoo-coo-coo!!) SMOKE!!<br>I got my bullet-proof and now to send my bozack<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br><br>(Mad Spider)<br>Rich rap come from the brothers in the neigborhood<br>who used to rap on a Polaroid - here comes Father Joe<br>Let me clock the block as I pull fo´-five<br>Boof Baf - I cut the block with gat-stops<br>I used to play hookie just to see how good an emcee was<br>He said I bust a battle - aight, I still took a gun<br>No cheeba, cheeba just a Libra on a last ride<br>I waited so long that I thought I died and came back alive<br>So hear the spirits, many fear, ?Sir New Stosser?<br>This the new thing under the Sun, when I come, I come<br>Bam-bam, alakazam, he grabbed the mic<br>up the block they ran, I came back with the bag<br>cause that´s my momma man<br>I´m just patrollin´, move off in the block<br>but the spot that I clock, you get shot if your numbers´ about<br>So don´t get caught in the fast lane, the fast lane<br>A just remain yourself and be the same<br>Cause many rapper-days, say nuttin´ for nuttin´<br>So here´s sut-um to take you from the am to the pm<br><br>(Pras)<br>Cause a imitator could never be greater than the creator<br>whose the originator, step up infiltrator<br>See you in the alligator - back stabbin´ traitor<br>Tape recorder, duplicator, roughly rhymin´ with the head tranzlator, hah!<br>AND LEAVE THE FORTY TO BE NAUGHTY IN THE FRIDGERATOR!!!<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck...<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!!) say tell me where you get your (???) from (BOOF BAF!!)<br>You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!!)<br>We want to shoot up the old a Babylon (BOOF BAF!!)<br>Pay the man to rhyme onto it<br>Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!!) say tell me where you get your (???) from (BOOF BAF!!)<br>You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!!)<br>You want to kill your own brother man (BOOF BAF!!), ay, ay, ay (BOOF BAF!!)<br><br>(*undecipherable singing*)
New song lyrics
(Wyclef Jean)<br>I´m Chill-Master-Nell of a thousand emcees<br>But how are you gonna tell the real I bust from these fo´ knees<br>Cause he sees everyone with a deal with a record company<br>They go home, they write a rhyme, they think they ready to battle better<br>Some write forward, some write backward<br>I wait for them to get the cheeba-ganja then reverse yo<br>With a verse that´s worse than the last one<br>some say BOO! he´s the po he used to diss Jamaicans<br>and Hatians cause you thought I was American<br>Ay Pras, remember that song they sang, YEAH!!<br>Go back to Jamaica, what´s good is what´s new<br>But now we move off with Uncle´s with a trail-crate of COOLER!!<br><br>(Pras)<br>I´m from the island, the island I´m from is the strong island<br>Emcees must be right, when I syke from lack of freestylin´<br>Mind must be sharp until my holler girl, I get all in<br>Black stylin´, ridin´, Boof´ll be trappin´<br>When they come to battle champ see the shoes flappin´<br>Huh, coolin´ while I´m rappin´<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>Said if you write with pencil you must write with (PEN!)<br>If you have a rooster you must have a (HEN!)<br>Five plus five you know that equals to (TEN!)<br>Then spit the yellow man, check it to groove-to-groove site<br><br>(Pras)<br>One, two, I throw a flow to catch it<br>Three, four, back she know before the track miss<br>I FUCK ya when style go, to wreck this static<br>(But yo sister, grab the mic and do damage!!)<br><br>(Lauryn Hill)<br>Aiyyo I used to drive a hooptie, check me down swoopie<br>Rollin´ with the Jones´ but I different homozones<br>See life´s got no value if I ain´t got no statue<br>Hannibal heads, I be the kid from "Timbuktu"<br>One, two, zip me-me, check the mic I´m ready<br>Three, four, please the army - "Oh God", with Uzi´s<br>So what, converse man, the chicken or the hoodie<br>get the - hoodie came first then mans´ then would be Nancy<br>To kill the Jesse James rough, step back, check your steps<br>I´ll love your theory like the chi-chi-woo-woo-boogie-man<br>You say I´m balanced but you´re Silence of the Lambs<br>And when I call your name I say Candyman, Candyman, Candyman<br>Cause I can, can, yes, I can, can<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>Well I´m on fire (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE), FIRE (FIRE)<br>So let me re-light your viacom<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>And let you enter the-the-elec-tronic (COOL!!)<br>All that movin´ I call my nozzle you see I was an electronic<br>You listen to your lyrics in chime - your Panasonic<br><br>The ly-ly-ly-lyricaler, the di-di-di-digital<br>Pras take the mic man, you know you´re really critical<br><br>(Pras)<br>Stall emcees-soft-put ´em up for-er-Death Row (yeah)<br>Rhyme and cultural, style and never old<br>Slashed the priest-fool, ooh, you´re filth-swolled<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>I say no to spliff but my friends still smoke ?Juano?<br>Coolin´ it, coolin´ it, coolin´ it<br>Somebody chuck me-who the who´d you think?<br>hold the mic, hold the mic, I shoot ´em<br>down with my last one, last one, last one, last one and<br>(Boo-shoo-coo-coo!!) SMOKE!!<br>I got my bullet-proof and now to send my bozack<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br><br>(Mad Spider)<br>Rich rap come from the brothers in the neigborhood<br>who used to rap on a Polaroid - here comes Father Joe<br>Let me clock the block as I pull fo´-five<br>Boof Baf - I cut the block with gat-stops<br>I used to play hookie just to see how good an emcee was<br>He said I bust a battle - aight, I still took a gun<br>No cheeba, cheeba just a Libra on a last ride<br>I waited so long that I thought I died and came back alive<br>So hear the spirits, many fear, ?Sir New Stosser?<br>This the new thing under the Sun, when I come, I come<br>Bam-bam, alakazam, he grabbed the mic<br>up the block they ran, I came back with the bag<br>cause that´s my momma man<br>I´m just patrollin´, move off in the block<br>but the spot that I clock, you get shot if your numbers´ about<br>So don´t get caught in the fast lane, the fast lane<br>A just remain yourself and be the same<br>Cause many rapper-days, say nuttin´ for nuttin´<br>So here´s sut-um to take you from the am to the pm<br><br>(Pras)<br>Cause a imitator could never be greater than the creator<br>whose the originator, step up infiltrator<br>See you in the alligator - back stabbin´ traitor<br>Tape recorder, duplicator, roughly rhymin´ with the head tranzlator, hah!<br>AND LEAVE THE FORTY TO BE NAUGHTY IN THE FRIDGERATOR!!!<br><br>(Chorus: Wyclef Jean)<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck punk, try<br>(BOOF BAF!!), another sound of a guy<br>(BOOF BAF!!), never boy, duck...<br><br>(Wyclef Jean)<br>Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!!) say tell me where you get your (???) from (BOOF BAF!!)<br>You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!!)<br>We want to shoot up the old a Babylon (BOOF BAF!!)<br>Pay the man to rhyme onto it<br>Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!!) say tell me where you get your (???) from (BOOF BAF!!)<br>You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!!)<br>You want to kill your own brother man (BOOF BAF!!), ay, ay, ay (BOOF BAF!!)<br><br>(*undecipherable singing*)
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