Isn't He Something

Once again it's the man with the flavor

It's Lord Finesse so run and tell your neighbors

So stop sleeping and check out the style I'm freaking

I stomp opponents and give hoes the silent treatment

Forget striking out, I'm hitting grand slams

Taking opponents off the stage like the Sandman

After Apollo I'm the one to follow now

I kick the shit that biters can't swallow down

Mics get lit up as soon as I get up

Opponents I hit up, make em quit and want to give up

I'm kicking a party like kung fu

Snatching all the girls as soon as I say "One two"

Brothers think I'm new, but they're dead for instance

I was into rap before they could form a sentence

I'm finally getting mine after coming up the far way

So nowadays I just lounge and parlay

I'm hip to music, whether jazz or country

I'm the type to make anything sound funky

I like to talk and shout and go and flow

Ayo, some brothers just don't know

That I can take on any played out wack style

Rhymes so deadly you should put them in a crack vile

I kick a rhyme as soon as you say when

So hype on the mic, when I finish you say "Amen"

I'm not the type to go around fronting

Ayo, they don't call me Lord Finesse for nothing

	"It's the L-O-R-D F-I-N-E double S-E"

	"All the party people say isn't he something"  (Repeat 2x)

Here we go, it's the grand imperial

With the hip material to blow your stereo

I sound different and my shit be hitting

It's the Funky Technician pay attention, listen

I flow smoothly like a scene in a movie

Girls that choose me say that I'm a cutie

Rough like a fistfight when I'm holding this mic

So keep your lips tight if you can't keep your shit tight

You can't beat this, better yet top this

I hold the crowd like Saddam hold a hostage

I get ferocious so I approach this

The girls are sweet like the cream from a Hostess

Yeah, I keep the cash flow

In a fight I throw the first and the last blow

So those that's yakking you'd better be packing

I catch a wreck like a whole mob attacking

I flow with quickness, MC's are too slow to get this

I preach on the mic like a Jehovah's Witness

Give me a mic, watch me saw

Not Daddy Kane or Eddie Murphy, but I get raw

To different tempos, a fast or a slow one

Me a wack MC?  Well it takes one to know one

Rhymes with the quickness and swiftness so come and get with this

Or be about your business

Always got something to keep the crowd jumping

Ayo, they don't call me Lord Finesse for nothing

	"It's the L-O-R-D F-I-N-E double S-E"

	"All the party people say isn't he something"  (Repeat 4x)

I get loose to make MC's step back

Brothers try and diss me but I don't sweat that

I'm able to stop a crew, pass any obsticle

I'm not Bobby Brown, but I still wanna rock with you

Smooth rap maestro, wild like a psycho

Step to this and get sparked like a light show

I flip like an acrobat, kicking rhymes back to back

Even with faster raps there's still more after that

This is the Funky Technician and the one man

Who burn MC's quicker than a suntan

So the days of struggling, that's behind me, son

I got some shit for that ass in '91

So step back as I flow onward, man

Listen, I turn a house party into a concert

Brothers biting pope, crazy rhymes I wrote

I don't get mad, that just prove they take notes

Suckers that lack this can't catch this or match this

They need practice with they played out tactics

I stand ahead of them, the smooth rap veteran

Relieve any crowd like a dose of Exederin

When it comes to fights with mics I can hold mine

First album was dope, second one should be a goldmine

I make party people say "Isn't he something"

Cause yo, they don't call me Lord Finesse for nothing

	"It's the L-O-R-D F-I-N-E double S-E"

	"All the party people say isn't he something"  (Repeat 4x)