Luyện nghe bài hát Coins

yea i'm amplified, hey hermaphrodites,

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

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

i'll leave you "stop it please", but i aint fuckin finished yet,
kick ya head, till you loose all higher form of intellect,
never lost a fight, yo i whipped mr ass,
but then he got pissed, and kicked me out of his class,

"sorry man", mean it, yo this fuckin kids a genius,
spit the schemes that make you turn ya head, a bitches cleavage,
since i was just swimmin semen shot out of a penis,
i already had traits, like a twin of jesus,

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

kinda dope if i could hold a and be a rapper,
give the type of where 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 give it all i got raps,
like olympic sprinters haulin ass to finish 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 while the messiah of rhyme and rhythm,
lights the mic on fire by spittin a lightning within it,
and if you think im wack you got a broken dome,
or maybe your retarded with an pair of chromosomes,

like them butt fucking young money butt buddies,
when i come by, just run from me, cuz they aint,
as can be, shit 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 beat in its muthafuckin heart cuz its weak,
you targeting retarded teens your marketing schemes,
so that you have they hearts decieved to buy garbage released,

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

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

ima be the status rappin king,
and still keep it real, out changing just to match the scene,
and a couple stacks of gs, cuz im real,
and you deny skill that grabs you damn attention like a dire shrill fire drill,

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

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

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

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