Luyện nghe bài hát 10% Dis

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

You are I label as a, nerver plucker
Youre my nerves, you MC sucka
I thought I oughta tell you, yet warn
That I am like a stop, and my is Bond

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

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

bodyguard, is my bodyguard too
You wanna get hurt, this is what you do
You put left foot up, and then your right foot next
Follow instructions, dont lose the
Thirty a month your mood is rude
We the cause of your bloody attitude

Beat biter, dope taker
Tell you to face, you aint nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style
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
a milkbone, a sign of recognition
Dont turn away, I think you should listen
Dont boast, you said you braggin'
You liar, youre chasin' a chuckwagon

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

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

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

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

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

is no delayin in the rhyme Im sayin'
Neither are the flaws of my DJ is playin'
So sit back Jack, and to this its 10% dis
'Cause Im just about ready to fly fist, against your lips

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

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

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

I am myself, no games to be
No to be written, no scene to be made
I am the director, as far as you are
You believe me, then youll have to learn

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

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

Set assure, you I dont play
When it down to it, the nitty gritty
For a sucker like you I a whole lot of pity

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