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 stole the beat, are you fun?
Now, me and the Auds gonna show you how its

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

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

Beat biter, style taker
you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, style taker
you to your 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 your left foot up, and then right foot next
instructions, dont lose the context
Thirty days a month mood is rude
We know the cause of bloody attitude

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

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

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

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

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

Now Im not tryin' to say that Im into
But yo, if you cause it, yup, we gotta it
'Cause I 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 time, Ill be heard
the city, the town and the country
The is funky, my rhyme is spunky

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

But Ill wait for the day or night that you
And Ima then burn ya like a piece of, toast
Pop you in the microwave to watch head bubble
Your skin just crumble, a battles no

Get my homegirls Dohni and Kiki to get
This called hip-hop, Lyte is rulin' it
I to laugh in your face, but youre funny
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
Others your rhymes, while I write my own
I dont create a character, Im on the microphone

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

aint as hard as MC Lyte can get
And of fact, you aint seen nothin' yet
So let me step into a party hardy
Talk to some people and then from somebody

You wanna Cause 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 sucker you I feel a whole lot of pity

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