Luyện nghe bài hát Conceited Bastard

1:

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

You, you are, you bastard (8x)

2:

(We still got some non-believers) So I'ma the bomb
Like the wide 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 hypothetical
Wouldn't swallow my at a seizure
Speak my at my leisure
Living singe with hoes than Khadijah
And I'm bent, it's the circus without a tent
Clowning all baby-face ass who love hoes and pay rent
a chicken six cents for Gucci boots (Hell no!)
I rather mop the floor at a peep
What part of "I'm the shit?" don't you (Gooby bitch)
Your favorite rapper is a Ras fan
So, how many dykes do I flip on the
Many money, just me plenty Henny Remmy

Chorus: 8x

3:

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

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