Luyện nghe bài hát Crumbs On The Table

Is that a Well, get on it it's your turn

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 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 write my rhymes on a

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

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

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

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

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

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

In my prime, more than I've ever been
I'm not an amateur, sort of like a
Split from the bums, arriving 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 ready
To house MCs, 'em like a boat will
I roll heavy, thick like

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

The TR-808 to a terrorizer
Never hiding, clever always
Poetry, history, or even paragraphs
I'm not into b-boying, just

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

You better think before you get soup
I'll put you on the corner and sell you like a
Like a whore, make you want more and more
you to the side, up and down 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 battery

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

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