Maestro Fresh‐Wes Pray to da East Lyrics

“Naaah, Dis Kid Can’t Be From Canada?!!” Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 I’m Drinkin’ Milk Now
  • 2 Check My Vernacular
  • 3 Pray to da East
  • 4 Certs Wid Out da Retsyn
  • 5 Mic Mechanism
  • 6 Makin’ Records
  • 7 Fine Tune da Mic
  • 8 Brown Sugar
  • 9 How Many Styles
  • 10 “Dat’s My Nigga!!”
  • 11 Higher Level
  • 12 Bring It On (remix)
  • 13 Make It for the Ruff
  • 14 “Dat’s My Nigga!!” (instrumental)

  • Pray to the east, pray to the east...

    Yeah
    I got my man in the studio
    One of the illest MC's in the world
    Rhyme Inspector Percee P
    Kick some flavor for 94, baby


    Pray to the east, pray to the east
    Before you fuck around, nigga, pray to the east ( 2x )

    [ Percee P ]
    Your skills lack while I'm still strapped
    With real raps, and feel that I should kill wack
    Niggas that peel caps and that ill crap
    Bigger threat than you with your tec when I rip the set
    Niggas get smoked like a cigarette, so hit the deck
    Watch ya chin, nigga, Ho-chi-min when I rock my shit
    When it comes to props I get lots of it
    I can get Madonna, money, your threats are minor
    And bet you find your girl with a wet pijama
    Drippin with my cassette behind her
    Got more band trail than your hand's sellin
    Fans scalin, jam railin like it's Van Halen
    Skills scored high on billboards, I kill frauds
    Get real applausesteal broads' hearts at will force
    Hate a mark, skills lay a squad, and pray to god
    Don't say a hard verse worse than a plate of lard
    Percee P wanted for first degree
    Murder, since you heard it first from me, you worshipped me
    Fuckin threat, you heard nothin yet
    No need for buckin tecs, but rappers to duck in fret or upper-jet
    Mastered art, yo, when I flow something drastic starts
    Speed up a bastard's heart, great like jurassic park
    I cut you up like a sharp machete blade
    Swear to god, only card you can pull if it's Medicaid
    Done with all this gun shit, fuck who you run with, son split
    The only thing you shoot is your dick, and it comes quick

    [ Maestro Fresh Wes ]
    I'm like a bat outta hell tonight, niggas compell to bite
    I swell the mic when I like, fatter than cellulite
    I injure ears of engineers, sendin em into cheers
    Bringin my peers into tears, don't interfere
    Critics know I pack a wicked blow
    I put you in a clinic, so forget it like Riddick Bowe
    Nigga, go to hell, I flow so well
    Find another brother or mother or hoe to tell
    Or a bro to jeal', how's my jam gonna sell? Very well
    I send you back because you bring the wack
    I'm into rap, I interact with empty tracks
    Locked in, wack muthafuckas are blockin
    The Top 10 while the black radio jocks spin
    The calmer vibe, the modified
    I like the harder side, Jeffrey Dahmer tried, but died
    More words than a hour of scrabble, I got the power to battle
    Skadaddle or get devoured like the Tower of Babel
    Adversaries are snotty, some compare me to Gotti
    I bury a body, then carry a shotie
    The maestro rips the psycho shit
    Brain like a microchip, and I'ma excite you with
    The smoother rhythm, sendin mad crews to prison
    Who choose to listen while I use my U-4 missiles
    Collectin the pesos from a stage show
    Gettin fellatio from a h-o (why) because I say so
    My ratio expands as I wreck lands
    Makin def jams like Redman and X Clan
    I'ma nail the genitalia from Australia to Somalia
    Cause I'm smooth, just like a sailor
    I damage em all, bitches give me casual calls
    I'm slammin and jammin and rammin they vaginal walls
    Drums are fat over funky tracks
    Like Perce every verse could make your lung collapse
    I'm extra-nice, who's next to slice?
    Before you step to mics, nigga, check with christ
    You better

    Pray to the east, pray to the east
    Before you fuck around nigga pray to the east...

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