Luyện nghe bài hát 10% Dis

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

You are what I as a, nerver plucker
Youre pluckin' my nerves, you MC
I I oughta tell you, better yet warn
That I am like a stop, and my word is

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

Beat biter, style taker
Tell you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a
Beat biter, dope style
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, well this is you do
You put left foot up, and then your right foot next
Follow instructions, dont the context
days a month your mood is rude
We know the of your bloody attitude

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

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

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

Beat biter, dope style
you to your face, you aint nuttin' but a faker
Beat biter, dope style
Tell you to your face, you aint 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, it just a little
Wait for some female to up and pop junk
my cousin a cue, treat the girl 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 goin out like a 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 same time, Ill be
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 to this its 10% dis
'Cause Im just about ready to fly this fist, against your

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

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

On the topic of rappin', I should write a pamphlet, yet a booklet
Your rap is weak homegirl and its 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 to be written, no scene to be made
I am the director, as far as you are
You dont believe me, youll have to learn

This 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 and then hear from somebody

You wanna Cause 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 stretch my arm like elastic, like a magnet

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

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