Luyện nghe bài hát Can This Be Real

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

Now here's everybody can relate to
I know you hate to, but I feel to
Be the man to you, awake you and make you
sleepin' and I do what it takes to

Bring a screechin' halt to the
First listen to the jam before you start
And refusin', sayin' you can't it
You never even bothered to take it out the

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

'Cause you have no business, really in
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 dedicate it to the
Nothing real hard, just a teaser
For those, who told those, that the Tee was done with
No, not quite, yo, pump it

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

Pooh puts are warned, north while you can, bub
Give up rappin', my fanclub
I'm the rap reverend, hip-hop
Yo, I can this, pass me the cannabis

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

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

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

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

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

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

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