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Текст песни Maestro Fresh Wes - The Mic`s My Piece

Maestro Fresh Wes - The Mic`s My Piece слова песни

** Intro/Skit skipped **[Maestro Fresh Wes]I`m a ruler, that`s how I reignI do to rap what the Mona Lisa does to the frameRid `em and written, my rhymes are like rodeoI ain`t kiddin`, they jock my portfolioPlayed it wise, hit the studioRock international, now they call me JulioMCs have died, becuase I have killed themSome older than me but yet childrenSome veterans knew the fearBecause rap is not a joke, this game`s for realSucker boys cuss me, females rush meWhen I off the set, my homeboys they touch meWes, you ate `em up like a feastNo need to use an Uzi, when the mic`s my pieceCHORUS "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 Uzi, some a macheteYou wanna test Fresh Wes, well I`m readyThe mind is a magnum, the rhyme is a bulletThe mic that`s a trigger *BANG* and I pull itToo late for prayer, dee is a slayerWes rocks the mics like a hoops to IsaiahThe player, the pimp that MCs are riskingYou`ll get decked like Clay decked Liston*BANG*Where did the punch come from?Was it before, or after the drumLTD will be the refereeSaying `punk tell me how many fingers you see`The M-I-C is my P-I-E-C-EThe Maestro needs no MCLike a beast I beat while my rhymes releaseI can say *BANG* my mic`s my pieceA bag of LSD and my DJ does needlesLyrical dope my group ain`t feebleZero degrees centigrade, thirty-two farenheitCold getting paid if you`re a parasiteParaphrase, to parallel you`re paralyzeYou`re paranoid, you play my record, you plagerizeI paragon, the paramont vocabulistLyrical ?????? paragraph can`t handle thisMove, you might get mobbedThere`s a method ot my madness, don`t mock my monologueI`m like a beast when my rhyme`s released, like a sayss(?)*BANG* `cause my mic`s my pieceCHORUS[Maestro Fresh Wes]I walk around town looking at these clownsThinking about my cold crisp build to brownI sweat the coloured clown, this is what I meanI`m not American, my hundred dollar bill ain`t greenI`m from North of the border, keep it in orderBeats like the freak from the Latin QuarterThough I`m down with the T-O sceneI don`t hang with no polo teamNo charade, a parade I`m here to envadeX-rate, excess, escalate this escapadeI fancy girl like she don`t existExercise the dip, watch the exorcistExtreme 360, necks will snapShe wrote my rhythmn, received the whiplashExecuted, extracted, she`s attractedTo the Maestro, UHH, distractedIn distress, she`s hyperactiveBe jocking and still jacking, you must be wack kidThat`s why allow the sultan to rapThe aftermath, the bloodbath of paragraphEvery title you held been stripped offLove torn ego with a busted up lipWhen I start firing I never ceaseI get hyped, when *BANG* the mic`s my pieceCHORUS[Maestro Fresh Wes]YeahLike Franklin, Columbo, I`m jumble-laI can run so low, try to obtain my statusDon`t they know how long I`ve been at thisCall me a new jack, that`s a disNew jacks don`t rock like thisThat`s absurb to me, don`t say a word to meI`m from T-O that`s why you dun heard of meYesterday, but now you`re listening`Cause I`m exploding like nitroglycerineIf I was from New YorkI know you would, have rocked to my rhythmn, five years agoI had to try a little harder than the averageJust to get a break, but now I`m doing damageThink that you`re a star, sorry CharlieGot beef? talk to Farley`Cause what I manifest is a masterpieceDope rhymes are released when the mic`s my pieceSome carry knives some carry guns2000 brothers in the channel trying to be number oneLooking serious, flexing posingYou rub shoulders, step on toes and it`s *BANG* overYou might get shafted????????????????Too many want to brawl, I think I heard it allHip hop kept niggas alive, gave prefer to ballSome want to party, but some doI propagate against one of the brothers from my high schoolReal sad funeral, ask any pupilI speak know this before this quadrupleSome minds are so shallow, roads are so narrowFollow my ???? before you`re blunt like pharoahThe mic is my weapon, with it I ain`t messingNo half stepping, I`m progressingEven when I die these lyrics will lastSo roll over Bethoveen `cause the b-boy`s blastin`Show pen another gay, I leave you in aweThis array could bust an orchestraI`m the Maestro, my symphony can`t ceaseToo damn hype! *BANG* when the mic`s my pieceCHORUS

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