Check My Vernacular

[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'm the largest With the hardest style to disregard Check your cartridge, on your tech-niques Wes speaks, over the best beats Fresh until the next week I'm outlandish, I bandage the mic bringing anguish I'm sturdy when doing the dirty language And, it's time for me to raise my velocity No animosity, my philosophy's a prophecy Hipocracy, no that's the cameleon How old are you evein(?), they rhyming like comedians They make me laugh because they styles are scrupulous My body is my temple, my brain is my nucleus A great exapmle of Allah's perfection You're moving to the sounds of my fat selection I'm simply spectacular, smooth like an Acura Yo, check my vernacular You need to devote more... Time into rhyming if you're hoping for dope scores of folklore Creating a style and grow with it Be prolific don't solicit Be scientific, if it's wack go visit The department of labour, the harder flavour You can't savour, do rap a favour be a waver In the front row, where the stunts go