Chours:
|
1 o'clock, 2 o'clock, 3 o'clock rock
|
to the beat that I drop when I flip my hip-hop
|
put this in yo' collection
|
Fresh Wes without a rhyme is like certs without the retsyn
|
|
I'm coming straight out of Canada
|
far from an amateur
|
LT's my DJ, Flex is my manager
|
I flow so nice so they're calling me the Maestro
|
just pass the microphone
|
fuck the light show
|
real rap is in effect
|
and I'm out to get wrecked on the mic-mec
|
when I make a mic-check
|
not on the sloppy tip
|
I'm harder than a hockey stick
|
exciting niggas like Italian's in a Rocky flick
|
Adrian
|
watch me flow slow or flow fast
|
I'll even make a Spanish brother say no mass
|
I'm wrecking you, disconecting you, disrespecting you
|
hold your smoking ass cheap shit, it'll eventually catch up to you
|
I can make the phony retire, tendoroni perspire
|
she's on my back like my name's Jacobey and Myer,
|
(what's your name?)
|
it's Fresh-Wes with the sweeter beats
|
I make you smile like the brother on the red box of cream of wheat
|
|
chorus
|
|
I got more rhymes than Brits in a cathedral
|
my cerebral is lethal
|
nobody's equal, my people
|
wanna hear a funky new style so get with it
|
no dibby-dibby-dibby MC's are permitted
|
I'm wrecking it good
|
(what else)
|
collecting, injecting, and checking it good
|
(where?)
|
Lake Edna or your neck of the woods
|
I'm getting more blow than Chuck Mangeony
|
not a phony
|
but Joanie wanted me for holy matrimony
|
girls like my flavor cause I jam harder
|
let's have a nice quiet date
|
you, me, and my camcorder
|
it's like a power-burst, I'm more than just an hours worth
|
I get down and dirty, but uh honey
|
take a shower first
|
you can't tell me that the bro's soft,
|
I do the cabbage patch, butterfly, and boggle with my clothes off
|
but that's a different chapter
|
I've even got more rhymes than there's groupies of Jack the rapper,
|
on the microphone I slice you and make you say
|
(I knew his rhymes was phat, but his beats are kind of nice too)
|
now is the apocolypse
|
MC's are clocking this
|
they say they got skills but all I'm seeing is a flock of lips
|
acapella, or over a drum track
|
I'm funkier than a group of Jamacians after sun splash
|
|
chorus
|
|
the word Maestro is teacher in Italiano
|
I'm from Toronto, causing drama on the the verazono
|
so come and check a real pro
|
grab the peice of steal, yo
|
I make a Black activist say
|
(yes, that's my neigro)
|
when I said the mic's my peice I really meant it
|
so just like the Blue Jays, I'm out to win the pennant
|
so sucker chill, 'cause every head I struck I killed
|
oh, I don't know, is it just me, or am I really that fucking ill
|
|
chorus
|
|
-----------------
|
Certs Wid Out Da Retsyn
|
| Maestro Fresh Wes |