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 you can't rap, look at your engineer:
A Japanese guy with glasses on straight leg jeans and a beer
Got you on Hit Factory with four groupies acne
Thinking you recording a masterpiece, peanuts in your session
I'm a learn you a lesson: all can't write
You just a new with an ordinary gimmick and radio and poster hype
Now that 3, 000 people lost their jobs, I'ma see how record do
But you're out your boo boo, can't give a decent interview
I was wondering about you
whole group evolving different images around me
Acting like they don't copy me when see me
You've spent your life listening to "Critical Beatdown"
You's a secret fan; time I create an A.K.A. character
of you groups out there are so wack, looking at my shoes in my videos
The back of my album cover, and my marketing plan
Like you inventing new to the company
And in you're clones of me
(Y'all can't wait for my album to out to steal something 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 your promotional to get you out
Quick in the to perpetrate me on your Ampex reels
On tour most MC's draw sketches of me and watch I'm wearing
I found out why rappers look at me and keep staring
Comparing me to themselves from a distance when I offstage
Your record label, your group, and your fanbase giving me a ovation
In the Chicago Bull warmup suit and a bald head like Michael
Six-time of the league, four million groups in the industry
Rakim and Canibus is the only ones rapping pro
I average 52 per game, I put you to shame
Now you gonna sit in your Expedition and act like you don't know my name
I don't have to anybody nor freestyle
Half of flows are written by rookies working Montreal Expos
I don't care if you act wild, your raps to the studio
get in your booty, yo
I'ma set up a bag of dust on the
So you can do this, up, and smoke, yo, cause I'm no joke yo
I might ride on the cycle level 3, vomit you go in the booth
Your product manager is to say, "Yo who is he?"
(Yo who is that, man?)

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

I don't play with skinny and the water head
after time you don't know what I'm thinking when I come
Into 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 a new ass in this kid, he'd better not let me rhyme
Yeah, take a break, some blunts
I'm about to get up all in your
With your shaped like Mitch Green and Tony Tubbs, you don't want this
Go in the with your stomach hanging, gold teeth looking sneaky
I'm a let you how be, G
No matter how much your styles you can't see me
Believe that, up your ass souped up
Stand behind your backup, with your girlfriend
You're gonna get a lot of
Test the best, you're have water on your kneecap

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

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