Luyện nghe bài hát Can This Be Real

Yo, up?
King in the muthafuckin' house
Got my homeboy Young in the house
J-Ro's in the
But yo

Now here's everybody can relate to
I you hate to, but I feel great to
Be the man to shake you, awake you and you
Stop sleepin' and I do what it to

Bring a screechin' to the snoozin'
First listen to the jam before you choosin'
And refusin', sayin' you can't it
You never even to take it out the jacket

Put it on the turntable, a listen
if it's wack, start dissin'
Now I why you're dissin' my cut
So I spit in my foot and my fist up your butt

'Cause you have no business, in this
And I no time for that diss-diss
I shoot a rhyme at you I'm shootin' to kill
And you can do is ask
(Can be real?)

Now song, I dedicate it to the sleepers
real hard, just a little teaser
For those, who told those, that the Tee was done with
No, not quite, yo, pooh it

Suckers don't front, I it's me you admire
I take your girl, set her soul on
I use the mic a gun and my rhymes like ammo
I go while others go Rambo

Pooh puts are warned, break north you can, bub
up rappin', join my fanclub
I'm the rap reverend, evangelist
Yo, I can handle this, me the cannabis

Pro rap artist and my are kinda raunchy
Start with somethin' smooth, end with somethin'
See, I can rock, funk, rock, reggae or
Heavy metal or soul, disco at the casa

Just to the of a vinyl convention
Tee does the rappin', E does the
So if still sleepin', yo, that's ill
But when you're awake, what's your
(Tell me, can be real)

Let me see if I can bust one off
here, one take

As I resume with my rhymes, or I say continue
You got the nerve to try to you
like what I'm doin' or sayin' so far
But usually I'm done you're satisfied, of course

I don't front or fake, don't or sniff
rob or steal or shoot dice and pimp
'Cause I love to out with my posse and chill
You might think I'm a thug, so think what you

I got a girl with a curl and a named Sonny
Never smoked crack 'cause the shit funny
King Tee, my ego, there's not to be a sequel
try to diss me when I entertain the people

Hey, I'm a murderer, your girl, I'm her
You feel beefin', hah, the nerve of ya
I hit you so hard, it make your mother dizzy
Back up, punk, the came to get busy
(Tell me, can be real)