| Slave to My Soundwave |
| [Lord Finesse] Hear the crowd, and get the stage set You still got time, so put a tape in your tape deck Sit down, relax, as I drop facts Rhymes attract the crowd once I got em down pat I'm teachin the masses, join up for classes You're blind to the truth, so I'ma get you some glasses Cause as I flow, my rep start to grow And brothers don't diss me, cause they all know That I can get raw and hang with the rest of em Brothers be frontin, but Finesse'll be testin em As I rhyme, and strive for perfection It used to be mics, now it's girls I'm collectin Mike Smooth is on the Wheels of Fortune You don't want none so proceed with caution Clap along, you didn't know that I was that strong to kick a rap song on top of a platform A stage, when I speak I bring rage, shoot I kick my rhymes from page to page Get em down pat, when it's time for a hype track I don't scheme, cause I ain't livin like that I don't front when it's time for a autograph A Grammy award for rap is what I oughta have made up, cause I ate up, most the comp' Set up a beat, and watch me stomp like a boot, hot in pursuit, now tell me troop Do I keep the loot? Throw me a mic yo and watch me damage it Brothers run it, because they can't handle it Now MC's I amaze, shock and daze Just max -- you're a slave to my soundwave |