CHORUS [Maestro Fresh Wes]

It's the mad flavour kicker, the script flipper

They call me Fresh Wes (ah yeah dat's my nigga!)

It's the mad flavour kicker, the script flipper

They call me Fresh Wes (ah yeah dat's my nigga!)



[Maestro Fresh Wes]

Well it's the Fresh W-E to the S brother Wes

The style you try to kick is colourless

I got the skills you wish you had

You never had the gift to gab

I'm free base, you're just a seed from a motherfucker nickel bag

I'm casanova, 'cause your wife said I am

I made her hide her wedding band

Say (I can't believe how wet I am)

I gave the balls to Lucille, get broke with true shield

I pack blue steel, making crews yield

I'm rocking 'til early morn

I make the real niggas say (rock on, rock on)

That doesn't mean my head's getting bigger

I stay down to Earth, so when they see me they say

{Yeah dat's my nigga!)



CHORUS



[Maestro Fresh Wes]

I make wack rappers think about retiring

Stop aspiring, you ain't inspiring money, UPS is hiring

I got skills, not run of the mill

I mean a bill, hit a phil at the top of the hill

I get props like Lionel Hampton, city bank of Brampton(?)

I live in the bush, but my boom spots are Franklin

Although I am Canadian, I'll still catch wreck at the Paladium

When I possess the microphone like Damien, I'm hitting all the cuties

Give Facts of Life to Blair and T, I make Mrs. Garrett shake her booty

Can't you see my style's original (original)

And I'm making the residuals, being an individual

I slam a man, beat niggas up just liek a can of Spam

Hoes I undress, pressing breasts like a mammogram

For better sex, yo I'm liver than Memorex

Single, but