Luyện nghe bài hát Crumbs On The Table

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

Who laid, the chicken or the egg?
How about the MC has just been led
To a renegade teacher, then he got stomped
'Cause I'm a feature straight from the Bronx

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

To get to probably make you understand
What the 808 plan
simple, I'm a round it off like this
That's how stupid MCs I've dissed

But if they to try me I won't buy it
look them up and down and I'll say, "Don't even try it"
'Cause I can go on and on breathing
The TR, another of BDP-eating

MCs like Chunky, moving real
and baking MCs like a junky
Fiending, hitting MCs like they was
Calling John Doe, meaning they have no name

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

In water, now you soak
Into a rhyme of until you hit the bottom
It's heavy like an anchor, no problem
For me to just 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
to me you're just crumbs on the table

In my prime, more vocal than I've been
I'm not an amateur, sort of like a
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 MCs, sink 'em like a boat will
I roll heavy, like oatmeal

So now you know the 808 is
I do in just one moment
a little message to those that tryna hang out
Just remember that I give out

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm on the mic
Sometimes I'm on the
I'm superb, sort of herb
A man of my word and I've been served