Yeah, 1994   Maestro fresh wes      Chorus x2 [maestro fresh wes]   It's fresh wes y'all   I'm drinkin' milk now   I'm drinkin' milk y'all   I'm drinkin' milk now      [maestro fresh wes]   First I learn to crawl, then I learn to walk   Then I learn to talk, then I learn to rhyme   Suckers try to hock my lines   But i'mma serve ya   On the microphone I murder   Killing chump rappers   Since the days of eating gerber's baby food   The crazy dude with the pablum, the bad one   I grab the mic just like a magnum   Fly girls was jiggling, clinging to my ding-a-ling   Wes, you was hitting skins as a baby   Yeah true but I was fingering   Yeah, check out shorty in the diapers   They're some big motherfuckers rhyming at the ciphers   Grown-ups knew that I be wealthy   They used to say   "that baby boy gots talent, but his mouth is so filthy"   I worte creazy rhymes to the beat   Had the, freedom of speach   But I still couldn't reach, the tall glass of milk   On the table, my lyrics were stable   But still I wasn't able to get it   I didn't sweat it, I paid it no mind   I wrote another fat rhyme at the drop of a dime   Now I'm hoping for the day to come   So I can hear my dukes say, "wesley you son of a gun"      Chorus x2      [maestro fresh wes]   No time for chilling black   I wrote a killa rap, made an illa track   Knocking back the similack   Graduated from the formula, I had a scheme   Milk was calling me, just like the pipe to a fiend   But still I had to play cool, couldn't play a fool   So many mcs, are dropping out of pre-school   To get a record deal, forget it gotta hustle   Yo yo yo, how did money fall off?    Got lost in the shuffle   Ho thought he was a prankster   Every chick he'd meet he romanced her   Acting like a private dancer   But the music industry hobbes, is serious as cancer   No place for a rapper, that still wearing papmpers   Even if you're signed, you'll still got to struggle   And making fat beats is just a piece of the puzzle   So props to the brother that made the soul clap   Becuase my labels gave me flack money had my back   Forget the pacifier and your beachnut   Came out with three cuts   Now everybody's on these nuts   I got another rhyme, won't you check it   So fine tune the mic, engineer and i'mma wreck it      Chorus x3      [maestro fresh wes]   You know you got to go for self, support yourself   Like krs said, you got to promote yourself   That's a fact not a fable, (word)   Get out the cradle   Or you'll be grippling with your record label   No time to play clown, if you want to stay around   Learn the business, and this ain't a playground   No time for dr. suess, or mother goose   You can rhyme and produce, but now you got to get loose   Just a piece of advice, now go your own path   And that allowance that you're getting money ain't gonna last   (what's this? ) another fat beat that I build   You know it took a long time   But the borther's drinking milk      Chorus x4      Outro [maestro fresh wes]   Yeah, going out to diggin' in the crates, main source   We out