Luyện nghe bài hát Crumbs On The Table

Is that a turntable? Well, get on it it's turn

Who gets laid, the or the egg?
How the MC that has just been led
To a renegade teacher, preacher he got stomped
'Cause I'm a feature straight the Bronx Productions

Better known as Down
If I was a right now, I'd get crowned
The Nice is a teacher, not a or a rap lord
I even write my rhymes on a

To get specific to probably make you
makes the 808 plan
It's simple, I'm a it off like this
how many stupid MCs I've dissed

But if commence to try me I won't buy it
I'll look them up and down and say, "Don't even try it"
'Cause I can go on and on without
The TR, another of BDP-eating

MCs like Chunky, moving bluntly
Shaking and MCs like a junky
Fiending, hitting MCs like they was
Calling them John Doe, meaning they no name

I'll spin you a quarter, drink you like water
Hit below the with things you never thought of
I lay down the law that I am a
I roll like a wave so you oughta
Float like a sailboat, move a speedboat

In water, now you soak
Into a of mine until you hit the bottom
It's heavy like an anchor, no problem
For me to bake you, eat you like a cookie

I am a professional, boy, you're just a
I'm here to sing a song but some are not
Compared to me you're just crumbs on the

In my prime, more vocal than I've been
I'm not an amateur, sort of a veteran
Split from the bums, from a long trip
Now I'm back to just rip

MCs like confetti, eat 'em like
I chill for a year but yet I'm still
To house MCs, sink 'em a boat will
I roll heavy, thick oatmeal

So now you know the 808 is
I do damage in just one
Here's a little message to those that tryna out
remember that I give pain out

The TR-808 relates to a
Never hiding, always memorizing
Poetry, history, math or even
I'm not into b-boying, hoeing

Showing, MCs like the wind does
I might lay you, sort of like a hen
'Cause your rhymes are weak and
to me you're just crumbs on the table

You better before you even get soup
I'll put you on the corner and sell you a prostitute
Like a street whore, make you more and more
Move you to the side, up and down like a

Pulling out a gun is for
But I'm it, so go for yours
You may try to diss but I call it flattery
I more volts than a Duracell battery

Charging MCs, smooth the breeze
made me funky, yo, that was one theme
Or topic, showing I be
little city I play, I leave a heat wave
Burning up the industry, try to get with me

I'm the type of person that never needs
a little sex, a six pack of Beck's
And my to move about and a Guinness Stout
To me feel able, chilling and stable

I'm on the mic
Sometimes I'm on the
I'm superb, sort of herb
A man of my and I've never been served