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Beastie Boys
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Too Many Rappers (New Reactionaries Version)
Too many rappers and there's still not enough MCs It goes three, three, two, two, one, one MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys We can turn it out Perpetrators, we can point 'em out So if you've got something on your mind, let it out
Like a Nexus-6, comin' home to roost Handheld 58 when it's time to get loose Don't need the ear goggles, just put me through the speakers Like a scientist with tubes and beakers
Have MCs over my house and fix 'em brunch But you rappers? We goin' out, goin' dutch So pass me the sword, I'll start swingin' Just randomly chopping on a crazy ass mission
Because I'm back with a bang, boogie oogie oogie Strawberry Letter 23 like Shuggie Oh my god, just look at me Grandpa been rappin' since '83
I'm supersonic like J.J. Fad Got crazy-ass shit pullin' out the bag Don't forget the tartar sauce, yo, 'cause it's sad All these crab rappers, they're rapping like crabs
I have carte blanche, the vagabond Nas is the narcissist, my pockets are rotund I'm no killer, but compared to you, I'm more realer You ain't a shot caller mobster or a drug dealer
A slug peeler, you're not, mafioso, no You ain't got the cut-throat in ya, beginner I ain't tryin' to hear your racket, you work for police Dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacket
How many rappers must get dissed? Gimme eight bars and watch me bless this I start to reminisce when I miss The real hip-hop with which I persist
Like rum and mojitos, bullets and banditos Matzo balls and soup, jackets and troop Yes, y'all, this is one is for the history books Nasty Nas, what's the word? Count it off in the hook
One, two, three, too many rappers And there's still not enough MCs, it goes three, two, one MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 We can turn it out Perpetrators, we can point 'em out So if you've got something on your mind, let it out
'Cause this the type of lyric that goes inside your brain To blow you bullshit rappers straight out the frame My lyrics spin 'round like a hurricane twister So get your hologram on off of Wolf Blitzer
Too many rappers to shake a stick at I ought to charge a tax for every weak rap I had to listen to 'Cause we've been makin' stacks like Stax Records My squad, we got a pact, we're never comin' wack
To all you crab rappers, and hackers And circuit benders tweaked on Splenda I take the cake, I stole the mold The golden microphone, well, that's mine to hold
Now why all these biters all up in my crotchspace Sniffin', buffin', huffin' And mean muggin' with the Blimpie Bluffin' Back up off me, sucker, you ain't sayin' nothin'
I'm broader than Broadway, I was the project hallway Dual tape recorder, lacing oratorials all day I'm just gettin' started on this beat, this is foreplay And when the song's finished, I can sing along with this
By the way, I have a strong fetish for Christian Louboutin steppers I hear Russian blonde's the wettest But anyway, y'all better pay homage to my fellas And that's what's on my mind and on the rhyme, who's next up?
Mike D, the man of mystery History in the making and now we're taking Titles, awards, and accolades Skewer the competition as I sharpen my blades
We come together like peanut butter and sandwiches Like pen and paper, like Picasso and canvases Rockin' stadiums to shitty bars Go back in time, send a fax from my car
One, two, three, too many rappers And there's still not enough MCs, it goes three, two, one MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys We can turn it out Perpetrators, we can point 'em out So if you've got something on your mind, let it out
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