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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In my prime, vocal than I've ever 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 spaghetti
I chill for a year but yet I'm still
To house MCs, 'em like a boat will
I heavy, thick like oatmeal

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

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

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

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

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

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, try to get with me

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

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