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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
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The Maestro Certs Wid Out Da Retsyn lyrics are brought to you by Lyrics-Keeper. You can use lyrics widget for karaoke. We tried to make lyrics as correct as possible, however if you have any corrections for Certs Wid Out Da Retsyn lyrics, please feel free to submit them to us. If you want to download this song in mp3 you can visit one of our music sponsors.
