Luyện nghe bài hát Cliff Notes

Get, get, get it?
Get, get, get it?
Bronson Statik
Get, get, get it?
Get, get, get it?
.its all the same!

Pussy rap, damn beaver trap,
That thrill is gone, Im to bring the fever back,
To the streets, up the big whips.
rum the same ships,
Two grip, brother moves on shit,
Better on chick, or else is all trick,
.even in my
I the shit to make you mother fucker down sweat,
Queens red, no but a cheese
Fat ass fucking until shes dead,
Sway foot, looking an Indian,
Cool straight the Caribbean.
Long jackets, made an amphibian,
.money, with my comedian.
Break it down, on the Dallas,
in your parlors, chilling with scholars.

Get it?
I am not illiterate,
Not, not!
Not even a bit!
Straight up, I make the music for you!
Nothing, nothing an idiot!
Get it?
I am not illiterate,
Not, not!
Not even a bit!
Straight up, I make the music for you!
Nothing, nothing an idiot!

Call me Bon popping out the Volvo,
Retched on the leg, for the po-po!
Sissy, you a label as a loco,
Im sorry, but I never used to. the coco!
Urban hippie, with the green thumbs,
Seven grans a purple till my neck leave my feet on them.
Super bitch, Portuguese,
a dick like an elephant. three tones.
My pussy whistle like my the window,
. Im up the indoor
And when I go inside I think I just play Nintendo,
a Shwaty from my high and play with my
Ah, let me catch my little breath as she wont accept the kick
your destiny is for
Me, you see I spin epileptic shit,
you me or you respect the kid.

Get it?
I am not illiterate,
Not, not!
Not a little bit!
Straight up, I make the music for you!
Nothing, nothing an idiot!
Get it?
I am not illiterate,
Not, not!
Not a little bit!
up, I make the music just for you!
Nothing, like an idiot!

like Watson, flowing in the new
Van Dame
Spin kick to the
up in the tea room,
You dont to rerun!
times, drug out the balloon,
Beauty a butterfly, flying cocoon,
Urban and central village right by the lagoon.
Thats my grandfather, add a cream
the. harder.
Now you Shawty hold me than the dance partner,
Put a viper my pants,
So when the honey hit the tune Ill let her on it!
a gypsy, hookers in
.everybody is fifties.
Nine ninety eighty two my shoot,
Reflect like high sun in the hot noon!

Get it?
I am not illiterate,
Not, not!
Not even a bit!
Straight up, I the music just for you!
Nothing, like an idiot!