Luyện nghe bài hát Can This Be Real

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

Now here's somethin' can relate to
I you hate to, but I feel great to
Be the man to you, awake you and make you
Stop and I do what it takes to

Bring a screechin' halt to the
First listen to the jam you start choosin'
And refusin', sayin' you hack it
You never bothered to take it out the jacket

Put it on the turntable, a listen
Then if wack, start dissin'
Now I understand why dissin' my cut
So I spit in my and stick 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 like I'm to kill
And you can do is ask
(Can be real?)

Now this song, I it to the sleepers
Nothing hard, just a little teaser
For those, who told those, the King Tee was done with
No, not quite, yo, pooh it

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

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

Pro rap artist and my rhymes are raunchy
with somethin' smooth, end with somethin' punchy
See, I can rock, funk, rock, or salsa
Heavy metal or some soul, disco at the

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

Let me see if I can this one off
Right here, one

As I with my rhymes, or should I say continue
You got the nerve to try to you
Don't like I'm doin' or sayin' so far
But usually when I'm you're satisfied, of course

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

I got a girl a curl and a hommie named Sonny
Never smoked crack 'cause the smelled funny
King Tee, my alter ego, 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 like beefin', hah, the of ya
I hit you so hard, it make your feel dizzy
Back up, punk, the King to get busy
(Tell me, can be real)