Luyện nghe bài hát Conceited Bastard

1:

I verb-noun ??? (The most beautifullest shit)
I up like foundation, now who you facing?
The emcee,
Ras blessed the mic faster than Ramadan in 3
Get off my dick,
And tell your to come here
And stick your dick in your eardrum and what you heard (Yeah)
Fa sheezy, drama
Multiple between consecutive commas
I my ill nana wet, my martini dry
Whippin' a BMW 540-I (drunk Miss Daisy)
in a blue dress packing heat
While I'm doing in the middle of the street
My middle east metaphors religious wars
Jah-hah (plus some other middle dialect)
Get it popping like Felicia and Amhad
Keep my game face on a goalie
So stick yourself, Pretty

You, you are, you conceited (8x)

2:

(We got some non-believers) So I'ma drop the bomb
Like the one-armed reciever
See we be off the like (busy signal from phone)
Criminally insana, my do the Macarena
Attack the vanity who spin cancer
Rhetorical question, a answer
Wouldn't swallow my tongue at a
my mind at my leisure
Living singe with more than Khadijah
And when I'm bent, it's the circus without a
Clowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay
a chicken six cents for Gucci boots (Hell no!)
I mop the floor at a peep show
part of "I'm the shit?" don't you understand? (Gooby bitch)
Your favorite is a Ras Kass fan
So, how many dykes do I flip on the
Many money, just give me plenty Henny

Chorus: 8x

3:

(Well, that's true) Damn,
I put on everything I love
Like when Lucy was fucking
Got more stripes than
I'm cavy like fetus
See money snit and bullshit cheetahs
Too perputrating, not enough lyricism
Indo got you what your pen do
Faking pugilism, the evil you claim you and man do
With a gloc, you least likely to red dot a 7-up can
My man, understand, I got
So much doe in my pocket, I my girl a yeast infection
I'm big-headed like babies with syndrome
Is you a playa from the Himalyas Jerome-rome
This one tried to Billy Jean me
But I was two rubbers
So that nigga, Whodini (laughing)
Controversal reversal, this is my
You just a commercial

What, nigga, check, check,
Uh, huh, yeah,
goes out to all the critics
You can the didick
Check out for all the bitches to the radio
hate me though, you don't know me