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Текст песни Maestro Fresh Wes - How Many Styles

Maestro Fresh Wes - How Many Styles слова песни

INTRO [Maestro Fresh Wes]It`s the power move (yeah)It`s the power move (yeah)Peace to the power move (yeah)It`s the master plan (word)PeaceTo the master plan (yeah)1994 baby, the Maestro wild like a psychoThat`s how we doCHORUS [Maestro Fresh Wes]It goes in with the fat, out with the wackIn with the fat out with the wackYou niggas can`t rap, so I want my money backCan you dig it? (I can dig it), can you dig it? (I can dig it)In with the fat, out with the wackIn with the fat out with the wackYou niggas can`t rap, so I want my money backCan you dig it? (I can dig it), can you dig it? (I can dig it)[Maestro Fresh Wes]Yo, I walk tall like Hanibal AdleyHit a grand slam like my man Don MattinglyCome prepared if you ever try to battle me (why)I got rhymes coming out my anal cavityStraight outta ScarboroughReady to swing blows, niggas want to quitWash my nuts and my windowsI`m on your tape decks, rhyming to my apexIf a nigga don`t like he can bite me with a latexBecause when I`m rhyming, heads are decliningLike Brian Mulroney, niggas are resigningCompetition ain`t in front of meMaestro where`d you get all thses dope rhymes from?I don`t know, they just come to meYou fucking with a crazy brotherI don`t kiss and tell, but I know your baby motherI ain`t bullshittingMmm, why did Gill cook a mean Curry ChickenTime for me to get mad check(?)So wack motherfuckers step to the leftI`m fat like a Cadillac, cut like a battle axeI got crazy freaks, wash from BC to HalifaxYeah, now the Maest is knownThis beats alright, but now I thknk I want a xylophoneWith my cipher grown, many mics are blownYou`re in the Maestro zoneNow I gotta flow, hurdle any obstacleRhyme to show, and clock the doughSo many people try to stop the broBut I smoke competition like an octago(?)It`s Maestro!, Fresh W-E-S big up to fly Ju(?) and my nigga big JessYes, my peeps from 1-6-2I met her last summer on Jamaica AvenueNow every beat I made is a hitBut tell me, how many styles can one nigga flip?Yeah, ha haCHORUS[Maestro Fresh Wes]From the lungs of the Maestro, hail the funk hail the phelgmNiggas getting grim everytime I beginTo bring the funk to radio stations to bump meYou should have never let my ass into your countryWord to God, I`m real hardI`m even deadlier than Tony Montana with a green cardFuck you and your demo tapeInstead of tryin` to imitate... innovateI pull the mic but I don`t pull cardsBust your ass plus Julio down by the schoolyardDon`t try dissing me, because your style is historyI`m packing more flavour than the kernel`s(sp?) rotisserieI injure bone and I injure limbsI`ve come a long way like Virgina SLimsI do a show with the Bandstand, never met the sandmanChicks with the big tits give me a gland stand(?)Older broads want to jock me, Elanor from Fox wants my rockLet me stop, and burn stylesChumps want to turn wild, you say you got dopeBut why was your pops jumping turnstilesYou ain`t got money *Laughter*I`m so dope, this shit`s funnyAll my jams is the shitsBut tell me how many styles can one nigga flip?OUTRO [Maestro Fresh Wes]Yeah, 1994 babyBrother MaestroI want to say what`s up to my people, ScarboroughJane the Finch, Jungle, Flemington Park, everywhereYou know what I`m sayingToronto flavour, catching mad wrizzech in efizzect

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