Fine Tune Da Mic — текст песни (Maestro Fresh Wes)





Chorus x2

[maestro] fine tune da mic

[showbiz] engineer wont you check it

[maestro] its the brother maestro

[showbiz] and showbiz is going to wreck it



[showbiz]

So here I come (ha), so here I go (yo)

And when you hear (huh), you know its brother show

I like to rock a hundred miles, but you know Im far from running

Listen to the kicks and the snares, you know its stunning

Im coming, I came, Im only here to damage ya

I left my city and my hometown to fly to canada

To get a peace of mind and make beats on the low

And shows got a flow, a combo with maestro

Fresh wes, I never fess, big up to diamond d

A.g. and my partner lord finesse, cant forget buckwild

People know my style, dont play me like a child

Or your fam be sitting in the front aisle, of a funeral home

Put two to your dome, so pass the microphone

The s-h-o-w-b-i-z from 1-6-3, third and a-v-e

The trump cant see me

Lick for lick, I change cars like brother cange kicks

And pick up chiocks and take them to the flicks

So dont try to play big willie

Ill smoke you with a cripsy hundred dollar bill

And make the chump feel silly, huh

You cant understand where my heads at

While I made a record talking about liking my pockets fat

And not flat, not flat

And punks couldnt take it if you had ten gats

And girls play my lap bcause I made soul clap

I guess its like that when you got a little stack



Chorus x2



[maestro fresh wes]

Well Im crushing, blood starts gushing when Im bum rushing

Me and the mic is like startsky and hutchin

Not a plumber but Im guarenteed to fix farrahs faucet

No I never ever lost it, now imma toss it

Get off it, imma write, Ill role you like a tight spliff

I might get hyper just like positive on a night shift

Fresh wes is the smoothest show and prover

Like j. degar hoover, I make a ? ? ? manouver

Aint no lookin back, I throw a jam at the sugar shack

And I can make the mack say, jack bring my hooker back

Im getting nuff props like black moon, I never wrote a wack tune

Sons take my album cover straight to the bathroom

Live like a wire, mc for hire

Rapper all admire, but retire, when I ahnil-

Late, deducts, and take da bucks

Who the hell needs luck, I got it made and getting paid to fluc-

Uate my lyrics, my uncategorical, metaphorical flow

Makes you want to hear it, so dont compare it

You cant come near it, I know you fear it

You want to jeer it in the front row

cause you know me and show can flow

We go head to head, toe to toe and blow for blow

We say the kind of rhymes to make the party people listen

Catching mad wreck on the mic mechanism



Chorus x4



Outro [maestro fresh wes]

Yeah, thats how we doing it yo

Big up to my dj, ltd

Loves to devast, never hesitate to motivate

Farly flex, relfex, mvp yo

Thats how we swing it in the studio

Word up fresh wes, 1994

Im blowing up uhh

Im blowing up yeah

Yeah

I cant forget my man chris

My man mac behind the fat tracks

And my man show b-i-z

Aka mr. (f-a-t), we out



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