Текст песни Boof Baf (The Fugees) с переводом

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 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!!)

(*undecipherable singing*)