Luyện nghe bài hát 10% Dis

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

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

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

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

Milks bodyguard, is my 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 days a month your is rude
We the cause of your bloody attitude

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

Your style is smooth, even for a mic
You shoulda won applause as a sound-alike
a milkbone, a sign of recognition
Dont turn away, I think you should listen
Dont boast, you you wasnt braggin'
You fuckin' liar, chasin' a chuckwagon

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

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

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

Now Im not tryin' to say 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
youll be ignored, and at the same time, Ill be heard
Throughout the city, the and the country
The beat is funky, my is spunky

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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