Luyện nghe bài hát Damage

Peace, peace!
Dirty, ol bastard
The Genius!
The

I'll the mic and now I damage you
Cut your stamina, here comes the medical examiner
One verse you're out for the count
Bring the make sure he sniffs the right amount

him up and then I ask him, "Why did he intend this?"
Competition to get an ass so tremendous
Boy you bother this
Leave me like the son said, G or he'll be fatherless!

I got the asiatic flow mixed disco
up on the scene like the count of Monte Crisco
And start to vanish
I stepped up to a jet black kid, started speakin'

Yo he wasn't from
I asked him how he get so dark, the said, "Suntama"
He responded so fast, you me laugh
Ha ha ha haa, then I his ass

Kick the strongest rhymes, I brought out the punk in him
Caught him with a strong five deadly
Told him the Wu-Tang
Witness the Shaolin slang, that'll crush the you bring

I your ass take a big fall, why?
My main source is like a friendly game of ball
And as you step up to bat dn I play the riddler
You try to do me for a rhyme then I'll change to

Go out like Nazi, you'll be wishin your ass stayed
and played yahtzee!
Or watchin' 'Happy sweatin' Poxie
With and Richie Cunningham, Joni and Chachi

Wu, who? Me gettin so I'm through
Like a ten and a half foot, in a seven shoe
Now picture that a Minolta
Have your ass doin' some 'Night Fever' like John Travolta

I come strong I make born, I flip the script
And rock on from p.m. the fucking dawn
Pass the you're broke down, niggaz grab my what, what
Can't understand it, here's the

A complete of how I defeat you
Should of stepped to those fuckin' kids who to beat you
Yeah I bust that ass
You ran to Texas and came back but the chainsaw!

And want to a massacre
Better be coming with some motherfucking shit that's
Crush the person who did 'em, you just better
So I'm stepping to raggedy ass jetta

Put the to the metal
You and your DJ your name to Ma and Pa Kettle
As I pass the bone, kicks every measure
It's not a Newport but it's still with pleasure

C'mon don't be silly, just a bag of
up in a Motown Philly
I to write all the time when I smoked
the mic, then I kinda like went for broke

With visually concepts rhymes and biceps
Lyrically speakin', three to four then choke
Some think be harmin' this, claimin' they be bombin' this
But they still remains

I pull strings like Jimi
Ride more beats that go backs to the of Eddie Kendricks
I the truth to the youth, I say, "Hey youth
Here's the truth, start wearing bullet proof"
Arm yourself a shield
Before you get up just like the children in the cornfield