Too Many Rappers (New Reactionaries Version) [feat. NAS] testo – Beastie Boys

Mic Check (Nas)Mic CheckOne (one) two (two) three (three)Too many rappers and there’s still not enough emceesIt goes three (three) two (two) one (one)MCA, Adrock, Mike D that’s how we get it done likeLadies and gents attention, Nas in the houseWith Beastie Boys we can turn it outPerpetrators we can point ‘em outSo if you got somethin’ on your mind let it outYo, I been in the game since before you was bornI might still be emceein’ even after you’re goneStrange thought, I know, but my skills still growThe 80’s, the 90’s, 2000’s and soOn and on until the crack of dawnUntil the year 3000 and beyondStay up all night and I M.Cand Never die, cuz death is the cousin sleep‘Cuz i’m back with the bang boogie,oogie oogieStrawberry letter 23 like shuggieOh my god just look at me, grandpa been rappin’ since ‘83Oi’m supersonic like J.J. FadGot crazy *** **** pullin out the bagDon’t forget the tartar sauce, yo cuz it’s sadAll these crab rappers, they’re rappin’ like crabsI have carte blanche, the vagabondNas is a narcissist, my pockets are rotundI’m no killa, but compared to you i’m more realerYou aint a ….., a mobster or a drug dealerA slug peeler, you’re not, mafioso, noYou aint got the cutthroat in ya, beginnerI aint tryin’ to hear your racketYou work with police dog, you snitch, you rat, you wear that jacketHow many rappers must get dissedGimmie 8 bars and watch me bless thisI start to reminisce, when I missThe real hip hop with which I persist,like Rum in mojitosBullets in banditosMatzah balls and soupJackets and TroopYes Y’all, this is one for the history booksNasty Nas, what’s the word, count it off in the hookOne (one) two (two) three (three)Too many rappers and there’s still not enough emceesIt goes three (three) two (two) one (one)MCA, Adrock, Mike D that’s how we get it done likeLadies and gents attention, Nas in the houseWith Beastie Boys we can turn it outPerpetrators we can point ‘em outSo if you got somethin’ on your mind let it outCuz this the type of lyric goes inside your brainTo blow you bullshit rappers straight out the frameMy lyrics spin round like a hurricane twisterSo get your hologram on off of Wolf BlitzerToo many rappers to shake a stick atI oughta charge a tax for every weak rapI had to listen to, ‘cuz we be makin’ stacksLike Stax recordsMy squad we gotta packWe never coming wackTo all you crab rappers and hackersAnd circumventerssouped on splendourItake the cake, I stole the mouldThe golden microphone, well that’s mine to holdAnd why all these biters all up in my crotch-space?sniffin, muffin, huffinAnd mean muggin’ with a Blimpie BluffinBack up off me sucka, you aint sayin’ nothinI”m broader than Broadway, I was in project hallwaysDual tape recorder lacin’ auditoriums all dayI’m just getting started on this beat, this is foreplayAnd when this song finished, y’all can sing along with thisBy the way I have a strong fetishFor Christian Louboutin steppers, I hear Russian blondes the wettestBut anyway I better pay homage to my fellasAnd that’s what’s on my mind,and the rhyme who’s next up?Mike D. The man of mysteryHistory in the makin’, and now we’re takin’Titles, awards, and accoladesScarin the competition as I sharpen my bladesWe come together like peanut butter and sandwichesLike pen and paper, like Picasso & canvasesRockin’ stadiums and shitty barsGo back in time, send a fax from my carOne (one) two (two) three (three)Too many rappers and there’s still not enough emceesIt goes three (three) two (two) one (one)MCA, Adrock, Mike D that’s how we get it done likeLadies and gents attention, Nas in the houseWith Beastie Boys we can turn it outPerpetrators we can point ‘em outSo if you got somethin’ on your mind let it out 

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