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
