Luyện nghe bài hát Ain't U Da Masta

Here the jams, yo punks, guard your domes
It's the man with the mad new styles and funky
So strike one, two, strike three, you're out
Of luck, jack, fuck that, grab your nuts and
(ain't you the ) yep, I've always been
And then, I'm a stab a critic with his pen
So write that, put in your magazine and stick it
I'm wicked, just like a witch when I it
So break out your charts and scales and try to me
Give me a one, son, yep I you hate me
Cause I'm a keep on bringing it, I'm it
Sharp like glass til your punk ass is it
Riff-raff, your whole damn I have to cut up
I bombs, I'm fatter than your moms, so what up?
I come the planet of raps on, oh yeah
me up steady, there's no skills down here
So there, you little punk sitting in your
Soon you're gonna the score kids, I swear

(ain't you the masta? ) yep, I'm the (repeat 4x)

I hits you hard kids, barred from the mic and
Rhymes kick like pele, rough like a and
me, masta, off beat, the healer
Rap style's deisel like an
So get that style out of my path
I'm turbo, I drop lines like nostran ave.
So danger, I'm burning from to sunday
I'm hot like some 10 deep in a hyndai
So make way, I drop mad like the fridge
I'm sacking, you're wack and you're like the bridge
This little rabbit tried to me, but fuck it
I got duckets, one day that rabbit kicks the
You (I know) you know (I know)
You know, you know, well yo where I go
Jane, this crazy thing if I sing
Some love shit and mad fly, I'd be the king
And be seen on the of like 27 books
But I'm too proud to beg, so this, you crooks
You're only as good as your jam, it's true
Your shit's new, wants an interview
But then, oh how quick forget
With no hit, like "who's that? " they full of shit
And straight up, my patience is starting to short
I'm gonna blows like your head was an airport
Say you theif, let me see your teeth
Cause I'm ultra-magnetic, like kool keith
So abra, cadabra, and change-o
The off-beat, on-beat style is strange yo
It dops here, it drops there, off then it's on
To the breaka, to the breaka, to the breaka of umm
Here I come bones by the sack for
Spraypaint, I my f-ing name on your back, punk

(ain't you the ) yep, I'm the masta (repeat 4x)