Letras:
Meu Mestre

His actions speak nothing but lies Intoxicated eyes And lonely hearts Are held accounted for Disease eats inside Nothing left to hide The sun starts

Rich boy's in trouble Car broke down on a drive through the ghetto All the weird people, you gotta get the fuck out Need to use the phone, step into my

You say you love me and you thinking of me But you know you could be wrong You say you told me that you want to hold me But you know you're not that strong

When Moses walked the children out of Egypt land Said now don't you worry, we're in the Lord's hands He's gonna walk beside us, the time is comin' near

In my Father's house are many mansions If it were not true He would have told me so He has gone away to live in that bright city He's preparing me a mansion

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

[maestro fresh wes] My rhymes are stinging like a killer bee My cometition are wishing that killing me For my similies and solioquies They garbage, but

I sleep with eyes shut completely tight I hear the call to awake and rise I know now my time has come tonight This is my life I float from my bed like

Satan is my Master He has always been He tells me what to do He buys my metallica records for me And sometimes I think Satan is my Master