Luyện nghe bài hát Coins

yea i'm amplified, hey hermaphrodites,

pass the mic, all you fuckin packin wack rappers,
leave you plastic faggots wrapped gauze, that's swag backwards,
half as nice, as the in afterlife,
i'll have your life, flashed in front your eyes like it's last chapter,

cracker, smack ya back in time, to the black and white,
saddle then laugh at ya, just cuz ima mad bastard,
rap master, fuckin wanna come and talk with me,
i'll knock you out, like the row of kanye's bottom teeth,

i'll leave you screamin "stop it please", but i aint fuckin yet,
i'll kick ya head, till you all higher form of intellect,
lost a fight, yo i whipped mr miyagi's ass,
but then he got pissed, and me out of his karate class,

"sorry man", didn't mean it, yo fuckin kids a genius,
spit the schemes make you turn ya head, like a bitches cleavage,
since i was just swimmin semen shot out of a penis,
i already had divine traits, like a of jesus,

mixed an inner demon, cold heart bitter freezin,
just like the fuckin winter season see,
cuz i in me achievin, dreamin big, is what i condone,
the future of life's unknown, and in my mind i know that it'd be,

kinda dope if i could a microphone and be a rapper,
give the type of shows hos just like to blow my penis after,
but cuz i strive for those unlikely goals and to grab,
you think my mind i slow like been diagnosed cerebral cancer?

"what the fuck?" ima it all i got with raps,
olympic sprinters haulin ass to finish quickest on the track,
until i'm sittin on the top and rippin with a craft,
not for but to win the witnesses' applaudin claps,

so be quiet and listen while the of rhyme and rhythm,
lights the mic on fire by spittin a lightning strike it,
and if you think im you prolly got a broken dome,
or maybe retarded with an extra pair of chromosomes,

kinda like them butt fucking money butt buddies,
i come by, they just run from me, cuz they aint,
hard as can be, they far from my league,
they mcs, the carter 3's bars are just weak,

you fuckin are the reason rap is partly deceased,
with a faltering in its muthafuckin heart cuz its weak,
you targeting retarded with your marketing schemes,
so that you have they hearts decieved to buy your released,

but i hard for this, a lot of trouble it took,
my first bars written in a colorin book,
and i claimin i was fuckin raised up in the hood,
i live in forests squirrels takin dumps in the woods,

but if you wanna come and battle me, i'll you wack mcs,
even when my brain and freezes off to many grams of weed,
high saturn's rings, eye balls japanese,
glassed nd pink, bars still clean like lysol, can't you

ima be the platinum status king,
and keep it real, with out changing just to match the scene,
and a couple stacks of gs, cuz im real,
and you can't deny skill that grabs you damn attention like a dire fire drill,

but most rappers as hell mang,
so i suspect that they have a cell brain,
mcs rankin in the back, like a tail gate,
but when i spit, i can feel the wrath and heat of raised,

cuz i go hard, like a jackin off,
plus i go far, an astronaut blastin off,
all you other mother fuckers over like macintosh,
i'll you like some nutter butters or just like some apple sauce,

cuz i'm sick as fuck, yeah im on a level,
while you spit your simple stuff, i just killed instrumental,
but nobodys seeing how i got big potential,
so i'm pissed enough to grab a pencil, and stab it in ya temple,

pissed enough to make the weapon spray so step away,
unless you crave pain, cuz my raised but anyways,
i'm being me, like they fuckin recomended aye,
back when i was just a little kid in second grade.