Luyện nghe bài hát Da Fundamentalz

I waste like time
Who wanna know the incredible original
Burnin mc's at degrees of farenheit
Drop em back to celsius, lord help me it's
Pop like tops on 40
Make cheese, you sweat me for the proceeds
I cause I strived
I cock back my fist and punch out ya insides
Who's left, cause got rights
I squeeze like spandex mad tight (right right)
One on one, don't you me buck you with my gun, baby
I'm tired of playing all these
It seems i-yah can't get time out anymore
My is nine and your name is mud
When I down, i-yah haffa come down raw
Just say, ohh, ohh, listen to the nine my is fat
Just say, no, no, sucker mc's know they rhymes are
Just say, oh take best shot, lemme see whatcha got
got a lot, run from red dot, spot like cop
Oh lord, I got the drop, shot the claat
Non-stop, pop pop pop pop the gat
Still fat, black
I rap, and yo' ass is still wack
that nigga with the booyaka?
It's the one and only nine and I'm ya
daily, always pack a half ounce g
Put springs in your boots and still can't me
(check one two check tree)
Check as many as you want, but check me, n-i-n-e

nine (repeat 2x)

Oh God I got da
grab the mic and rip up a instrumental
Oh God I got da
Nine'll the mic and rip up a instrumental

Rock, the body body, rock the body
wants a hottie that treats me like I'm daddy daddy
The format I use, on blue suede shoes
I guzzle brews mic check one two
I shake and bake the world,
Like the chemical jheri curl, drink til I
*throws up* me, where was i? stay fly
ran, never will, do or die
Chocolate thai got me
No mistake, hit like a earthquake, son I'm
N-i-n-e, came up in
I mics, down with street fights and chalice pipes
Niggaz know my steelo I'm 40
Deep flow, act like you know
Infrared beams, jeans, mic screens
Caffeine and nicotine me fiend I'm mean like joe greene
Down with a team, on point like the laser beam
It no fuckin dream
I pull styles out my ass doodoo (shit)
Nine makes quick quick flick the bic to the izz
Light, pull smoke, it in your area
jaws, like a pitbull terrier
I attack instrumentals with
Off the head, no pen, no paper, no
With the I'm nice, if the price is right
I tear the up all night
Bomb diddy ba dang a dang
I got slang like not many can hang

For who are unaware
is another fed production warning
To all wack, ass, punk ass crews
And all you industry who was sleeping
your wake-up call, punk..

Bob lewis, nine, tony stoute, al
The crew, is in
You stop this
your fuckin neck