"Boof Baf" lyrics - FUGEES

[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 man's 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 neighborhood
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 infiltrator
See you in the alligator - back stabbin' traitor
Tape recorder, duplicator, roughly rhymin' with the head tranzlator, hah!
And leave the forty to be naughty in the fridgerator!

[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
(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...

[Wyclef Jean:]
Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!) say tell me where you get your [?] from (BOOF BAF!)
You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!)
We want to shoot up the old a Babylon (BOOF BAF!)
Pay the man to rhyme onto it
Say gun-man (BOOF BAF!) say tell me where you get your [?] from (BOOF BAF!)
You musta get it from the foreign land (BOOF BAF!)
You want to kill your own brother man (BOOF BAF!), ay, ay, ay (BOOF BAF!)