Chorus x2   [maestro] fine tune da mic   [showbiz] engineer won't you check it   [maestro] it's 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 it's brother show   I like to rock a hundred miles, but you know I'm far from running   Listen to the kicks and the snares, you know it's stunning   I'm coming, I came, I'm 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 show's got a flow, a combo with maestro   Fresh wes, I never fess, big up to diamond d   A.g. and my partner lord finesse, can't forget buckwild   People know my style, don't 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 can't see me   Lick for lick, I change cars like brother cange kicks   And pick up chiocks and take them to the flicks   So don't try to play big willie   I'll smoke you with a cripsy hundred dollar bill   And make the chump feel silly, huh   You can't understand where my head's at   While I made a record talking about liking my pockets fat   And not flat, not flat   And punks couldn't take it if you had ten gats   And girls play my lap bcause I made soul clap   I guess it's like that when you got a little stack      Chorus x2      [maestro fresh wes]   Well I'm crushing, blood starts gushing when I'm bum rushing   Me and the mic is like startsky and hutchin   Not a plumber but I'm guarenteed to fix farrah's faucet   No I never ever lost it, now i'mma toss it   Get off it, i'mma write, I'll 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   Ain't no lookin back, I throw a jam at the sugar shack   And I can make the mack say, jack bring my hooker back   I'm 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 don't compare it   You can't 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, that's how we doing it yo   Big up to my dj, ltd   Loves to devast, never hesitate to motivate   Farly flex, relfex, mvp yo   That's how we swing it in the studio   Word up fresh wes, 1994   I'm blowing up uhh   I'm blowing up yeah   Yeah   I can't 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