Maestro Fresh Wes - The Mic's My Piece lyrics
** intro/skit skipped **
[maestro fresh wes]
I'm a rulerthat's how I reign
I do to rap what the mona lisa does to the frame
Rid 'em and writtenmy rhymes are like rodeo
I ain't kiddin'they jock my portfolio
Played it wisehit the studio
Rock internationalnow they call me julio
Mcs have diedbecuase I have killed them
Some older than me but yet children
Some veterans knew the fear
Because rap is not a jokethis game's for real
Sucker boys cuss mefemales rush me
When I off the setmy homeboys they touch me
Wesyou ate 'em up like a feast
No need to use an uziwhen the mic's my piece
Chorus
"bang on"
"i'm murdering mc"
"bang on"
"i'm murdering mc"
"bang on"
"i'm murdering mc"
** scratching by dj ltd **
Repeat
[maestro fresh wes]
Some use a uzisome a machete
You wanna test fresh weswell I'm ready
The mind is a magnumthe rhyme is a bullet
The mic that's a trigger *bang* and I pull it
Too late for prayerdee is a slayer
Wes rocks the mics like a hoops to isaiah
The playerthe pimp that mcs are risking
You'll get decked like clay decked liston
*bang*
Where did the punch come from?
Was it beforeor after the drum
Ltd will be the referee
Saying 'punk tell me how many fingers you see'
The m-i-c is my p-i-e-c-e
The maestro needs no mc
Like a beast I beat while my rhymes release
I can say *bang* my mic's my piece
A bag of lsd and my dj does needles
Lyrical dope my group ain't feeble
Zero degrees centigradethirty-two farenheit
Cold getting paid if you're a parasite
Paraphraseto parallel you're paralyze
You're paranoidyou play my recordyou plagerize
I paragonthe paramont vocabulist
Lyrical ? ? ? ? ? ? paragraph can't handle this
Moveyou might get mobbed
There's a method ot my madnessdon't mock my monologue
I'm like a beast when my rhyme's releasedlike a sayss(? )
*bang* 'cause my mic's my piece
Chorus
[maestro fresh wes]
I walk around town looking at these clowns
Thinking about my cold crisp build to brown
I sweat the coloured clownthis is what I mean
I'm not americanmy hundred dollar bill ain't green
I'm from north of the borderkeep it in order
Beats like the freak from the latin quarter
Though I'm down with the t-o scene
I don't hang with no polo team
No charadea parade I'm here to envade
X-rateexcessescalate this escapade
I fancy girl like she don't exist
Exercise the dipwatch the exorcist
Extreme 360necks will snap
She wrote my rhythmnreceived the whiplash
Executedextractedshe's attracted
To the maestrouhhdistracted
In distressshe's hyperactive
Be jocking and still jackingyou must be wack kid
That's why allow the sultan to rap
The aftermaththe bloodbath of paragraph
Every title you held been stripped off
Love torn ego with a busted up lip
When I start firing I never cease
I get hypedwhen *bang* the mic's my piece
Chorus
[maestro fresh wes]
Yeah
Like franklincolumboI'm jumble-la
I can run so lowtry to obtain my status
Don't they know how long I've been at this
Call me a new jackthat's a dis
New jacks don't rock like this
That's absurb to medon't say a word to me
I'm from t-o that's why you dun heard of me
Yesterdaybut now you're listening
'cause I'm exploding like nitroglycerine
If I was from new york
I know you wouldhave rocked to my rhythmnfive years ago
I had to try a little harder than the average
Just to get a breakbut now I'm doing damage
Think that you're a starsorry charlie
Got beef? talk to farley
'cause what I manifest is a masterpiece
Dope rhymes are released when the mic's my piece
Some carry knives some carry guns
2000 brothers in the channel trying to be number one
Looking seriousflexing posing
You rub shouldersstep on toes and it's *bang* over
You might get shafted
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Too many want to brawlI think I heard it all
Hip hop kept niggas alivegave prefer to ball
Some want to partybut some do
I propagate against one of the brothers from my high school
Real sad funeralask any pupil
I speak know this before this quadruple
Some minds are so shallowroads are so narrow
Follow my ? ? ? ? before you're blunt like pharoah
The mic is my weaponwith it I ain't messing
No half steppingI'm progressing
Even when I die these lyrics will last
So roll over bethoveen 'cause the b-boy's blastin'
Show pen another gayI leave you in awe
This array could bust an orchestra
I'm the maestromy symphony can't cease
Too damn hype! *bang* when the mic's my piece
Chorus
