How Many Mics Song Lyrics

Pick up your microphones, ha-ha
Pick up your microphones, yo

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
Seasons 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 wack

Plus you use that loop over and over
Claiming that you got a new style, your attempts are futile
Ooh, child, you puerile, brain waves are sterile
You can't create, you just wait to take my tapes (bing)
Laced with malice, hands get calloused
From gripping microphones from here to Dallas
Go ask Alice if you don't believe me, I get in her visions like Stevie
See me ascend from the chalice like the weed be
Indeed we like Khalid Muhammad, MCs make me vomit

I get controversial, freak your style with no rehearsal
Au contraire mon frère, 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 ColecoVision, 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 syphilis, yeah