Luyện nghe bài hát 10% Dis

Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn, hot
Hot damn, hot hoe, here we go again
steal a beat, when you know they cant win
You stole the beat, are you fun?
Now, me and the Auds show you how its done

You are what I label as a, nerver
pluckin' my nerves, you MC sucka
I thought I tell you, better yet warn
I am like a stop, and my word is Bond

Like James, killin' everybody in
The three-six, the name is Lyte
After this jam, I dont give a damn
'Cause Ima run and tell your whole damn clan, youre a

Beat biter, dope taker
Tell you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a
Beat biter, style taker
Tell you to your face, you nuttin' but a faker
(Hit me why dontcha, hit me why dontcha?)

Milks bodyguard, is my too
You get hurt, well this is what you do
You put left foot up, and then your right foot next
Follow instructions, dont the context
Thirty days a month your mood is
We know the cause of your bloody

biter, dope style taker
Tell you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a
Beat biter, dope taker
Tell you to your face, you nuttin' but a faker

style is smooth, even for a cheatin' mic
You won applause as a Rakim sound-alike
Heres a milkbone, a of recognition
Dont away, I think you should listen close
Dont boast, you said you braggin'
You fuckin' liar, chasin' a chuckwagon

The only way you learn you to be taught
That if a beat is not for sale, then it be bought
When you leave the mic, you its smokin'
Unlike Rakim, you are a
And I you oughta stop, before you gets in too deep
'Cause with a sister like Lyte, yo, I dont

Beat biter, style taker
you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style
Tell you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a

Im in a jam, with my homegirl Jill
My Trey across the room with a posse to kill
So I step in the middle, shake it a little
Wait for female to step up and pop junk
Give my cousin a cue, treat the girl like a

Now Im not tryin' to say that Im static
But yo, if you cause it, yup, we gotta it
I aint goin out like a sucker no way
So I sit around the way for you to my day

We can go for the hands, yet for the words
'Cause youll be ignored, and at the same time, Ill be
Throughout the city, the town and the
The is funky, my rhyme is spunky

There is no delayin in the rhyme Im
are the flaws of what my DJ is playin'
So sit Jack, and listen to this its 10% dis
'Cause Im just about ready to fly this fist, your lips

But Ill wait for the day or night you approach
And Ima serve then burn ya like a piece of,
Pop you in the microwave to your head bubble
skin just crumble, a battles no trouble

Get my homegirls and Kiki to get stupid
This called hip-hop, Lyte is rulin' it
I hate to laugh in your face, but funny
Your beat, rhymin', your timin', all crummy

On the topic of rappin', I should write a pamphlet, yet a booklet
Your rap is homegirl and its definitely crooked
write your rhymes, while I write my own
I create a character, when Im on the microphone

I am myself, no to be played
No script to be written, no to be made
I am the director, as far as you are
You dont believe me, then youll have to

This aint as as MC Lyte can get
And matter of fact, you aint seen yet
So never let me step a party hardy
to some people and then hear from somebody

You wanna battle? you know where I am
You wanna come in the 90s and see me at a jam
a, mic is handy, ten feet away
I stretch my arm like elastic, head like a

Set assure, you know I dont
When it comes down to it, the gritty
For a like you I feel a whole lot of pity

Beat biter, dope taker
Tell you to your face, you nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style
Tell you to your face, you nuttin' but a faker