Maestro Fresh Wes - Certs Wid Out Da Retsyn Lyrics

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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

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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

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