Luyện nghe bài hát Crumbs On The Table

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

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

Better known as Boogie
If I was a king right now, I'd get
The is a teacher, not a prince or a rap lord
I even my rhymes on a blackboard

To get specific to make you understand
What makes the 808
It's simple, I'm a round it off this
That's how many 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, form of BDP-eating

MCs like Chunky, moving bluntly
Shaking and baking MCs a junky
Fiending, MCs like they was cocaine
Calling John Doe, meaning they have no name

I'll you like a quarter, drink you like water
Hit below the belt with things you thought of
I lay down the law that I am a
I like a tidal wave so you oughta
Float like a sailboat, move like a

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

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

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

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

So now you the 808 is showing
I do damage in just one
a little message to those that tryna hang out
Just remember that I pain out

The relates to a terrorizer
hiding, clever always memorizing
Poetry, history, math or even
I'm not b-boying, just hoeing

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

You better think you even get soup
I'll put you on the corner and you like a prostitute
a street whore, make you want more and more
Move you to the side, up and like a seesaw

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

Charging MCs, smooth the breeze
made me funky, yo, that was one theme
Or topic, I be rocking
little city I play, I leave a heat wave
Burning up the industry, never try to get me

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

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