Intro/skit** skipped [Maestro **

fresh wes] I'm
a ruler that's, how I reign I
do to rap what the mona lisa does to the frame Rid
'em and written my, rhymes are like rodeo I
ain't kiddin' they, jock my portfolio Played
it wise hit, the studio Rock
international now, they call me julio Mcs
have died becuase, I have killed them Some
older than me but yet children Some
veterans knew the feel Cause
rap is not a joke this, game's for real Sucker
boys cuss me females, rush me When
I off the set my, homeboys they touch me Wes
you, ate 'em up like a feast No
need to use an uzi when, the mic's my piece Chorus

"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 machete You
wanna test fresh wes well, I'm ready The
mind is a magnum the, rhyme is a bullet The
mic that's a trigger bang *and* I pull it Too
late for prayer dee, is a slayer Wes
rocks the mics like a hoops to isaiah The
player the, pimp that mcs are risking You'll
get decked like clay decked liston Bang
*Where*
did the punch come from Was?
it before or, after the drum Ltd
will be the referee Saying
'punk tell me how many fingers you see' The
m-i-c is my p-i-e-c-e The
maestro needs no mc Like
a beast I feast when my rhymes release I
can't cease bang *cause* the mic's my piece A
bag of lsd and my dj does needles Lyrical
dope my groove ain't feeble Zero
degrees centigrade thirty-two, farenheit Cold
getting paid and, you're a parasite Paraphrase
to, parallel you're paralyze You're
paranoid you, play my record you, plagerize The
paragon the, paramount protagonist You're
the para-moprh my, paragraph analysis Move
you, might get mobbed There's
a method to my madness don't, mock my monologue I'm
like a beast when my rhyme's released like, a says Bang
*'* the mic's my piece Chorus

[Maestro

fresh wes] I
walk around town looking at these clowns Thinking
about my cold crisp build to brown I
stress the colour clown this, is what I mean I'm
not american my, hundred dollar bill ain't green I'm
from north of the border keep, it in order Beats
like the freak from the latin quarter Though
I'm down with the t-o scene I
don't hang with no polo team No
charade or parade I'm here to invade X-rate
excel, escalate, this escapade I
pass a girl like she don't exist Exercise
the this watch, the exorcist Extreme
360 necks, will snap She
wrote my rhythmn received, the whiplash Executed
extracted, she's, attracted To
the maestro uhh, distracted, In
distress she's, hyperactive You're
jocking the jack you, must be wack kid That's
why I laugh you, felt my wrath The
aftermath the, bloodbath of paragraph Every
title you held been stripped off Love
torn ego with a busted up lip When
I start firing I never cease I
get hyped when, bang *the* mic's my piece Chorus

[Maestro

fresh wes] Yeah
[Scratching
solo by dj ltd] Like

franklin columbo, I'm, jumble-la I
can run so low try, to obtain my status Don't
they know how long I've been at this Call
me a new jack that's, a this New
jacks don't rock like this That's
absurd to me don't, say a word to me I'm
from t-o that's why you dun heard of me Yesterday
but, now you're listening 'Cause
I'm exploding like nitroglycerine If
I was from new york I
know you would have, rocked to my rhythmn five, years ago I
had to try a little harder than the average Just
to get a break but, now I'm doing damage Think
that you're a star sorry, charlie Got
beef Talk? to farley 'Cause
what I manifest is a masterpiece Dope
rhymes release when the mic's my piece Some

carry knives some carry guns 2000
brothers in the channel trying to be number one Looking
serious flexing, posing You
rub shoulders step, on toes and it's bang *over* You
might get shafted You
must be wishin cause, I'm dishin' be, the facts I, mean Too.
many want to brawl I, think I heard it all Hip
hop kept n s****alive gave, 'em murder ball Some
want to party but, some are too cool I
propagate against one of the brothers from my high school Real
sad funeral ask, any pupil I
speak know this before this quadruple Some
minds are so shallow roads, are so narrow Follow
my flow before you flunk like pharoah The
mic is my weapon with, it I ain't messing No
half stepping I'm, progressing Even
when I die these lyrics will last So
roll over bethoveen 'cause the b-boy's blastin' Show
pen another day I, leave you in awe This
array could bust an orchestra I'm
the maestro my, symphony can't cease Too
damn hype Bang! *when* the mic's my piece Chorus

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The Mic's My Piece Lyrics

Maestro Fresh Wes – The Mic's My Piece Lyrics