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 about the MC that has been led
To a renegade teacher, preacher then he got
'Cause I'm a feature straight from the Bronx

Better known as Boogie
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 make you understand
What makes the 808
It's simple, I'm a it off like this
how many stupid MCs I've dissed

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

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

spin you like a quarter, drink you like water
Hit below the belt with 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 like a

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

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

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

MCs confetti, eat 'em like spaghetti
I chill for a but yet I'm still ready
To MCs, sink 'em like 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 that tryna hang out
remember that I give pain out

The relates to a terrorizer
Never hiding, clever memorizing
Poetry, history, math or even
I'm not b-boying, just hoeing

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

You better before you even get soup
I'll put you on the and sell you like a prostitute
Like a street whore, make you want more and
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 even try to diss but I it flattery
I pack more volts than a Duracell

MCs, smooth like the breeze
Scott 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 little sex, a six of Beck's
And my room to move and a Guinness Stout
To make me able, chilling and stable

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