Luyện nghe bài hát Bow To The Masta

That's right y'all, the K double-O L, (South Bronx)
I'm in here, I'm a let you (I started rappin')

I can tell you can't rap, look at your
A Japanese guy with on with straight leg jeans and a beer
Got you on Hit Factory with groupies with acne
you recording a masterpiece, chewing peanuts in your session
I'm a learn you a all y'all can't write
You just a new group an ordinary gimmick and radio and poster hype
Now that 3, 000 people their jobs, I'ma see how your record do
But you're out your boo boo, can't give a decent interview
I was always wondering you
Your group evolving different images around me
like they don't copy me when they see me
You've your whole life listening to "Critical Beatdown"
You's a secret fan; time I create an A.K.A. character
Most of you groups out are so wack, looking at my shoes in my videos
The back of my album cover, and stealing my marketing
Like you something new to the company
And in you're clones of me
(Y'all can't wait for my album to come out to steal new)

You bow to the master!
(Worship me, worship me, me, worship me) (Repeat 4x)

I pity the untalented, half of y'all creativity is to duplicate
The clothes I wear, call promotional staff to get you out
Quick in the magazines to perpetrate me on Ampex reels
On tour most draw sketches of me and watch what I'm wearing
I found out why look at me jealous and keep staring
me to themselves from a distance when I walk offstage
Your label, your group, and your fanbase giving me a standing ovation
In the Chicago Bull warmup suit and a bald head like Jordan
championship of the league, four million groups in the industry
Rakim and Canibus is the ones rapping pro speed
I average 52 per game, I put you to shame
Now you gonna sit in your used Expedition and act like you don't know my
I don't have to anybody nor freestyle
Half of your flows are by rookies working Montreal Expos
I don't care if you act wild, bring your raps to the
I'ma get in booty, yo
I'ma set up a bag of on the console
So you can do this, light up, and smoke, yo, cause I'm no yo
I might on the cycle level 3, vomit when you go in the booth
product manager is going to say, "Yo who is he?"
(Yo who is that, man?)

You bow to the master!
(Worship me, worship me, worship me, me) (Repeat 2x)

I don't play with skinny legs and the water
Time after time you don't know what I'm thinking I come
your studio professional with a white man driving a Continental Lincoln
Groupies look at me, y'all don't pay me no
I'm about to tear a new ass in this kid, he'd better not let me
Yeah, take a break, order some
I'm about to get up all in fronts
With your body shaped like Mitch Green and Tony Tubbs, you want this
Go in the corner with your stomach hanging, gold teeth looking
I'm a let you how be, G
No matter how much your change you can't see me
Believe that, light up ass souped up
Stand behind backup, with your acne-faced girlfriend
gonna get a lot of feedback
Test the best, you're gonna have on your kneecap

You bow to the master!
(Worship me, worship me, worship me, me) (Repeat 2x)

Yeah, I'm sorry Magazine, I'm first
The other 49 are behind me, what?!