Luyện nghe bài hát 13 Years

19 7, bitch what's happenin?

Thirteen years!
I what to do to knock your stupid ass
so bad you no challenge.
Thirteen years!
ain't no fluke, this pure deep talent.
Thirteen years!
I know to do to knock your stupid ass
so bad you no challenge.
Thirteen years!
1]
Bow, when I hold the microphone and it
Keepin me rappin until I hoarse and
Thirteen and rollin
I rate colder than
Gettin of this, niggas don't want no more of this
leave you alone in your life, nigga I'm selectin and sellin rhymes
Slap a nigga that style sound some mine
Mad you screamin "It AIN'T!"
(This line whispered, hear)
You be pissin me off some the time, take you down one at a
I'ma be known for fuckin over your album
Who want my
Keep decling, keep climbing
Keep duckin, I'ma keep
Keepin heat seekin comin to get you bitches off me
cow sled, (..?..)
Hard to break, if it comes way
It took me thirteen muthafuckin years to make a tape
But that don't mean that my one of the strongest
All I know I been tryin to make it for the fuckin
Fuck the side of all this, as you done it
When I done it, blunted bout to run this bitch
Takin riders down with me, clown with me
Leave thirteen in muthafuckin chest and you can count em

2]
Nigga go pass the vibe, mad this year
Creative catastrophy, leave MCs in caskets
Hit ya like metal jackets, cut like hatchets
Tight as ratchets, and burn matches
than amino acids, flip like gymnastics, nasty as a pissy mattress
Droppin like the in December
Clippin em, tippin em, writin raps far back as I can remember
Fulla them rocks, move key
It was Djs and sucka MCs
Handle your buisness in this of competition
Or be at F.W. Bulls washin
Bitch I was born to write million rhymes
Battle in the hallways of Cohen in 85
86, 87, 88, hooked up Big Boy records and made my first demo tape
We dropped real shit in the basement
I had big ol' nigga tracks, like pavement
To come from New made it hard to surface
That's when I got discouraged and joined the
of and I (?) before long
I went to war and served federal before I made it back home
No more rips in my jeans and gettin my
Ain't shit unlucky my number thirteen

3]
I hit the bitch BOSH! Owwwwww!
Never gon bounce rap and doin time before I bow
How in the fuck you like me now
your ass she had said I'd be on top of the pile
Cause my rap style is my
I niggas up like Muslims
the flex like muscle
Use a, pretty delievery cause it's important
I form a style enough to cut straight through the bones
I from my welts, gave up my belt
I got off Big Boy records to put my single on the shelf, now
Do I do it? Fuckin I did it
Shoulda seen the chir'en in the street singin I'm Not That Nigga
Size ain't nothin nigga, I'm
nigga, raah!
They gave me five hundred dollars, I quit both of my jobs
em, got some other shit to do from nine to five
My birthday came, and my died
But next year, signed a half a million dollar deal with Jive
This shit tragic can't be no more
Because of my rings I work at A&P no
I drive my off the show floor
Got the time to time to feel pain, on Volvos
Comin with scheme, up in my
Who'd a ever thought I'd be a No Limit
by the end of that
Thirteen manic years!