How Many Mics
Fugees Lyrics


Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴  Line by Line Meaning ↴

Pick up your microphones ha ha
Pick up your microphones

How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Say me say Many moni, Say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Say me say Many moni, Say me say many, many, many
I get mad frustrated when I rhyme
Thinking of all them kids who 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
Your puerile
Brain waves are sterile
You can't create, you just wait to take, my tape's
Laced with malice
Hands get calloused
From grippin' microphones from here to Dallas
Go ask Alice if you don't believe me
I get Inner Visions like Stevie
See me, ascend from the chalice like the weed be
Indeed be like Khalil Muhammad
MC's make me vomit
I get controversial
Freak your style with no rehearsal
Oh, contraire mon frere
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 Coleco, Vision
My mind makes 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 syphillis, yeah

How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do you rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many

I used to be underrated
Now I take iron, makes my shit constipated
I'm more concentrated
So on my day off
With David Sonnenberg I play golf
Run through Crown Heights screaming out Mazel Tov
Problem with no man
Before black, I'm first human
Appetite to write like Frederick douglass with a slave hand
Street pressure word to poppa, I ain't goin' under
One day I'll have a label and make deals with Tommy Motolla
Momma always told me "you're one in a million"
Always watch your back, never tangle with Haitian Sicilians
Now I got a record deal "how does it feel?"
I'm never gonna survive unless I get crazy like Seal
Cause the whole world's out of order
So at night the fiend's dance on Grease with John Travolta
One got slaughtered as he coughed blood from his mouth
The other tried to duck and caught a left with my Guinness Stout
Brother brother can't you get this through your head
It's a set up by the fed's they're scoping us with their Infra - reds

How many mic's do you rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do I rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many

Too many MC's not enough Mic's
Exit your show like I exit the turnpike
Dice and dynamite like dolomite
double deuce delight, I don't Dick Van Dyke
Startlight to starbrite the freaks come out at night
Like my man Wyclef (I wear my sunglasses at night)
And my panache will mosh your entourage
Squash your squad and hide your body under my garage
And when the cops come lookin'
I'll be bookin' to Brooklyn
Leave the trails broken flippin' tokens to Hoboken
A clean getaway like Alec Baldwin
Drivin' in my fast car playin' Tracy Chapman

How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do you rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily




Many moni, Say me say many, many, many, many
Many, many, many, moni, many, many, many, many, many, many, moni

Overall Meaning

The Fugees' song "How Many Mics" is a reflection on the state of hip hop and their own experiences in the industry. The verses speak to the frustration of seeing artists enter rap for money, claiming to have a new style while using the same loops and samples. The chorus repeatedly asks "how many mics do we rip on the daily," showcasing the group's dedication to their craft and their desire to continue pushing themselves even when others aren't.


The opening lines "Pick up your microphones" is a call to arms for all artists to step up and use their platform to create meaningful work. The refering to themselves as ripping “many, many, many mic's” could mean that the Fugees are intent on taking over the industry by producing high-quality music that speaks to everyone.


The next verse references the changing seasons, but points out that despite this constant change, the issues in hip hop and the industry at large remain the same. The love doctor Strange is a reference to a comic book character known for manipulating magical powers - this could be seen as a comparison to how the music industry often tries to manipulate artists for their own gain.


The lines "Your puerile brain waves are sterile / You can't create, you just wait to take, my tape's / Laced with malice / Hands get calloused / From grippin' microphones from here to Dallas" highlights the group's belief that true artists create and innovate, while those just looking for a quick buck are simply imitators.


Finally, the references to various celebrities and cultural icons, including Tracy Chapman, John Travolta, and Dick Van Dyke, illustrate the group's diverse range of interests and influences in both music and pop culture.


Line by Line Meaning

Pick up your microphones ha ha
Get your microphones ready, let's go!


How many mic's do we rip on the daily
How many microphones do we perform on every day.


Say me say Many moni, Say me say many, many, many
Repeat after me: many money, many many many money.


I get mad frustrated when I rhyme
I get extremely annoyed when I rap.


Thinking of all them kids who try to do this
Thinking of all the young people who try to rap.


For all the wrong reasons
Doing it for the wrong motives.


Seasons change, mad things rearrange
Things change all the time, and sometimes they change in a crazy manner.


But it all stays the same like the love doctor Strange
Even though things change, some things remain the same like the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange.


I'm tame like the rapper
I'm mild-mannered like most rappers.


Get red like a snapper when they do that
But I get angry like a snapper fish when other people do things that annoy me.


Got your whole block saying "True dat"
I have the whole neighborhood agreeing with me.


If only they knew that, It was you who was irregular
If they only knew that the one who is strange is actually you.


Sold your soul for some secular Muzak that's wack
You sold your self-respect for some terrible, mainstream music.


Plus you use that loop over and over
And you keep using that same beat repeatedly in your songs.


Claiming that you got a new style
Saying that you have an innovative technique.


Your attempts are futile, ooh child
Your efforts are useless, kid.


Your puerile, Brain waves are sterile
Your thinking is immature, and it doesn't produce anything original.


You can't create, you just wait to take, my tape's Laced with malice
You can't produce anything, you just copy others, and my music is full of anger and contempt for people like you.


Hands get calloused
My hands get rough and sore from gripping my microphone so often.


From grippin' microphones from here to Dallas
From gripping the microphones so much that my hands hurt even when I'm not performing.


Go ask Alice if you don't believe me, I get Inner Visions like Stevie
You can verify this with Alice, and like Stevie Wonder, I have deep, intuitive insights.


See me, ascend from the chalice like the weed be
You can see me rising like smoke from a marijuana pipe.


Indeed be like Khalil Muhammad
In fact, I'm like Khalil Muhammad, a prominent Black Nationalist leader.


MC's make me vomit
I hate mediocre rappers.


I get controversial
My lyrics often stir up controversy.


Freak your style with no rehearsal
I can destroy your style without even practicing.


Oh, contraire mon frere don't you even go there
You're wrong, my friend, don't even try to argue with me.


Me without a mic is like a beat without a snare
I can't function without my microphone, like a beat without a snare drum.


I dare to tear into your ego, We go, way back like some ganja and pelequo
I dare to criticize and insult your inflated ego, while we have a history like smoking marijuana and drinking bleach together.


Or Coleco, Vision
Or playing old video games on the Coleco Vision console.


My mind makes incisions in your anatomy
My thoughts can dissect and analyze your innermost being.


And I'll back this with Deuteronomy Or Leviticus
And I'll support my arguments with quotes from the Bible.


God made this word, You can't get with this
God created this rap game, and you can't compete with me.


Sweet like licorice, Dangerous like syphillis, yeah
My style is both pleasant and harmful, like the taste of licorice and the disease of syphilis.


Too many MC's not enough Mic's
There are too many rappers and not enough stages for everyone.


Exit your show like I exit the turnpike
I'll leave your show abruptly, like I'll exit the freeway.


Dice and dynamite like dolomite double deuce delight
My rhymes are powerful and explosive like dynamite or the character Dolomite, and they bring joy to people like a pair of two's in a dice game.


I don't Dick Van Dyke Startlight to starbrite the freaks come out at night
I don't mess around like Dick Van Dyke, but when the stars come out at night, the party people come out too.


Like my man Wyclef (I wear my sunglasses at night)
Like Wyclef Jean, I also wear my sunglasses at night.


And my panache will mosh your entourage Squash your squad and hide your body under my garage.
And my confidence will overpower your posse, crush your crew, and dispose of your corpse in my garage.


And when the cops come lookin' I'll be bookin' to Brooklyn
And when the police investigate, I'll already be on my way to Brooklyn.


Leave the trails broken flippin' tokens to Hoboken
I'll leave a trail of destruction while throwing coins in Hoboken.


A clean getaway like Alec Baldwin
I'll make a smooth escape, like Alec Baldwin famously did when he punched a photographer.


Drivin' in my fast car playin' Tracy Chapman
I'll be driving quickly in my car while listening to Tracy Chapman's music.


Many moni, Say me say many, many, many, many
Many money, repeat after me: many many many many money.




Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: Lauryn Hill, Pras Michel, Wyclef Jean

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

@lustforl4fe285

Pick up your microphones ha ha
Pick up your microphones
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Say me say Many moni, Say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Say me say Many moni, Say me say many, many, many
I get mad frustrated when I rhyme
Thinking of all them kids who 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
Your puerile,
Brain waves are sterile
You can't create, you just wait to take, my tape's
Laced with malice
Hands get calloused
From grippin' microphones from here to Dallas
Go ask Alice if you don't believe me,
I get Inner Visions like Stevie
See me, ascend from the chalice like the weed be
Indeed be like Khalil Muhammad
MC's make me vomit
I get controversial
Freak your style with no rehearsal
Oh, contraire mon frere
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 Coleco, Vision
My mind makes 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 syphillis, yeah.
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do you rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
I used to be underrated
Now I take iron, makes my shit constipated
I'm more concentrated.
So on my day off,
With David Sonnenberg I play golf
Run through Crown Heights screaming out Mazel Tov
Problem with no man
Before black, I'm first human
Appetite to write like Frederick douglass with a slave hand
Street pressure word to poppa, I ain't goin' under
One day I'll have a label and make deals with Tommy Motolla
Momma always told me "You're one in a million"
Always watch your back, never tangle with Haitian Sicilians
Now I got a record deal, "How does it feel?"
I'm never gonna survive unless I get crazy like Seal.
Cause the whole world's out of order
So at night the fiend's dance on Grease with John Travolta
One got slaughtered as he coughed blood from his mouth
The other tried to duck and caught a left with my Guinness Stout
Brother brother can't you get this through your head
It's a set up by the fed's they're scoping us with their Infra - reds.
How many mic's do you rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do I rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
Too many MC's not enough Mic's
Exit your show like I exit the turnpike
Dice and dynamite like dolomite
double deuce delight, I don't Dick Van Dyke
Startlight to starbrite the freaks come out at night
Like my man Wyclef (I wear my sunglasses at night)
And my panache will mosh your entourage
Squash your squad and hide your body under my garage.
And when the cops come lookin'
I'll be bookin' to Brooklyn
Leave the trails broken flippin' tokens to Hoboken
A clean getaway like Alec Baldwin
Drivin' in my fast car playin' Tracy Chapman
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do you rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, say me say many, many, many
How many mic's do we rip on the daily
Many moni, Say me say many, many, many, many
Many, many, many, moni, many, many, many, many, many, many, moni



@jeromel23

How Many Mics Lyrics

[Intro: Wyclef Jean]
Pick up your microphones, ha-ha
Pick up your microphones, yo

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean, Wyclef Jean & Lauryn Hill]
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

[Verse 1: Lauryn Hill]
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



10

10

Killer Mike 'Motherless' Official Lyrics & Meaning | Verified





















 

Killer Mike 'Motherless' Official Lyrics & Meaning | Verified

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean, Wyclef Jean & Lauryn Hill]
How many mics do we rip on the daily?
Many, money, say, me say many, many, many
How many mics do I rip on the daily?
Many, money, say, me say many, many, many
How many mics do you rip on the daily?
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

[Verse 2: Wyclef Jean]
I used to be underrated, now I take iron
Makes my shit constipated, I'm more concentrated
So on my day off, with David Sonenberg I play golf
Run through Crown Heights screaming out, "Mazel tov!"
Problem with no man, before Black, I'm first human
Appetite to write like Frederick Douglass with a slave hand (Bing)
Street pressure, word to papa, I ain't goin' under
One day I'll have a label and make deals with Tommy Mottola
Mama always told me, "You're one in a million"
Always watch your back, never tangle with Haitian Sicilians
Now I got a record deal, "How does it feel?"
I'm never gonna survive unless I get crazy like Seal
'Cause the whole world's out of order
So at night, the fiends dance on grease with John Travolta
One got slaughtered as he coughed blood from his mouth
The other tried to duck and caught a left with my Guinness Stout
Brother, brother, can't you get this through your head?
This is set up by the feds, they're scoping us with their infrareds

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean, Wyclef Jean & Lauryn Hill]
How many mics do you rip on the daily?
Many, money, say, me say many, many, many
How many mics do I rip on the daily?
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

[Verse 3: Pras]
Too many MCs, not enough mics
Exit your show like I exit the turnpike
Dice and dynamite like Dolemite
Double-deuce delight, I don't Dick Van Dyke
Star light to star bright, the freaks come out at night
Like my man Wyclef (I wear my sunglasses at night)
And my panache will mosh your entourage
Squash the squad and hide their bodies under my garage
And when the cops come lookin, I be bookin' to Brooklyn
Leave the trails broken, flippin' tokens to Hoboken
A clean getaway like Alec Baldwin
Driving in my fast car playing Tracy Chapman

[Chorus: Wyclef Jean & Lauryn Hill]
How many mics do we rip on the daily?
Say, me say many, money, say, me say many, many, many
How many mics do you rip on the daily?
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
How many mics do I rip on the daily?
Many, money, say, me say many, many, many

[Outro: Wyclef Jean]
Many, many, money, many, many, many
Many, many, money, many, many, many

[Interlude]
Yo, as I was sayin', look
Yo, yo, hold up kid, hol' up, hol' up (Yo, man)
Yo, ready or not, kid (Yo, yo, I gotta tell you somethin', man)
They gon' move on us (If they do, but, yo)
And we gotta get prepared
We gotta get the forces together, man (I gotta do what I gotta do, man)
We gotta get our family together (I'ma haul ass down to Mexico, yo)
Ready or not, man (Word is born)
Ready or not they gon' move on us
So I tell you what, better safe than sorry
Let's be ready

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Genius Annotation1 contributor

In this song, the Fugees brag about their rap skills and prove their haters wrong.

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What did Jerry Wonder say about the song?

Genius Answer1 contributor

The whole thing about that record was a record that was supposed to go out on a mix tape. They actually put it on a mixtape. It was the first record anybody heard from The Score. How Many Mics it was on the mixtape, next thing you know people are going crazy over it. We’re like, “Get the fuck out of here.” That was one of the best first records. That’s one of my favorite records on The Score

Jerry Wonder via Complex

Who produced “How Many Mics” by Fugees?

When did Fugees release “How Many Mics”?

Who wrote “How Many Mics” by Fugees?

The Score (1996)

Fugees

1.

Red Intro

2.

How Many Mics

3.

Ready or Not

4.

Zealots

5.

The Beast



@limonene8435

Jais pas la voix de Desjardins
Loin d'être un homme.Des fois j'expose trop mon jardin, sans filtre le truc est mal sain.Énorme.
On m'dit la vie est pas parfaite , pourtant on affichent que des belles formes, des famille qui on de belle sommes.J'me reflète pas dans tous s'qu'ils consomment.
A croire que tout les pauvres se drogue ou  aucun dnous finis l'école.C'est vrais en partis , mais encore les stéréotypes l'emporte.En contre partie qu'est-ce que l'monde m'apporte.Des fois j'me sens égoïste quand j'pense que c'est une idée qu'j'porte.A force que les porte se ferment jdeviens clostrophobe.
J'me demande si dans une autre vie , j'aurais eu les pensé d'un autre.
Si j'aurais prononcé les même mots.
Ou si mon esprits aurais garder lmeme souffle, les même forment.
Aurais-je commis les même fautes.
Le shit est wack, toxique nocif
C'est une attaque verbal, quand j'récite.
Génération dnovices , mini MCS qui prônes que l'vis.Corde vocal sans aucun style.Quand jprend mes graphites, j'gravite.Mini MCS m'évitent.
Scribe.
Tapis dans l'ombre j'transcris ,  j'transpire me remémorant les récits que mes yeux vient.
Des fois les souvenir s'effacent, c'est comme rompre la corde qui nous relient avec le temps qui s'espace.
Un mur, splash.
Des fois j'rêve d'être plus mature que s'que définis mon âge.
Scribe par nature car on me lis par phrase.
Paradoxal, car j'écris au son du rythme.
Extase.
Mon style ne s'imite pas, son unique.
Car on as tous son histoire.
J'Graphine, graphite.
J'gravite sur mes herbes magiques, j'exerce la poésie rythmique.
La vie monochrome, conforme m'étouffe comme un asthmatique.
Quand j'étais p'tit, j'rêvais d'être une grande personne.
Maintenant, j'le suis j'rêve d'être petit.
Tu comprends comment je résonne?
Un enfant qu'personne prends dans ses bras, s'isole.
Forme, société à sens unique qu'est-ce ça change que j'disent que j'aime les licornes.
C'est qu'ça les provoque.
Wtf.
J'l'ai choque et c'est réciproque.



All comments from YouTube:

@yvonne2976

lauryn is just everything i need in a female artist

@kamryn.austin

Lauryn is one of my favorite emcees period.

@nme.00104

💯🗣️💭📣🎯📢👏

@mikoro88

"Sweet like licorice, dangerous like syphilis." <3

@thecrysta

The bass line is amazing! The beat is superb.

@zavi84do16

0hh yes

@Jimbothegiraffe

Happy 25th birthday to one of the greatest hip hop albums of all time ❤️

@zutroyzang1

I got this MFer when i was 12 years old first tape i ever had with swearing, I was like this is the good shit

@caseymokhitli1276

@zutroyzang1 ⁰

@sino8521

True

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