Luyện nghe bài hát De Automatic

Some fear de
it out

Some de automatic, yes de automatic
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a gwan die

Crazy waste they time chasin' millions
While KRS-One, holds the of the children
I'm buildin' a followin' of a hundred and thousand
few heads up in project housin'

A true rapper, street rapper, to the center
I enter any cipher, with of adventure
If rappers are beats like cars, I'm bendin' mad fenders
Put your mic and surrender

a pretender, Blastmaster KRS rules the pavement
Kickin' Edutainment while you for your arraignment
Save it friend before your I cave it in
I got my way again, I'm classical like a Harley Davidson

How do you think I kick a lyrical style no and you
It's simple, I'm a rap God, and youse a
Don't mean I'm bigger, it means I'm smarter
For starters, I come at you harder

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a rapper die

Ha hah, fake ass rapper, how you you got juice?
When you rock a pair of underneath your bubblegoose
KRS-One will fuck up parties
My reflex'll slap a wack rapper

When you was witcha mother, afraid of the dark
I was sleepin' out in Park
Eatin' one every 48 hours
Writin' dope styles that you now devour

Don't you realize, I'm all about survival
I got only friends 'cause I all my rivals
Show up at the rhyme recitals, took titles
From to ninety-six completes my first cycle

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a gwan die

I spent 40 days and 40 in the wilderness
I'm hard, from head to toe yo ain't no killin' this
I over 100 rap hooks
And sociological books, while you about your looks

Now you enter the dragon in sound
But got the live club show locked down
Platinum and don't hold in my arena
You gots to it real on the mic, when they see ya

I manifest, in the the East and overseas
The in rap is wack and I don't know of these
I represent New to be specific
The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm still

I grab a jet and land on your set, the fuck?
Twenty bucks for a rap show is still, twenty
I start from eighty-six and you into ninety-six
No gimmicks, or lip-sync lyrics

De automatic, get de
Disrespect, from MC's, me nah go it
De automatic, get de
Tonight a gwan die

yeah, it's the God Fat Joe
Representin' the motherfuckin' South
With my nigga Kris, off frauds
Motherfuckers do what?
Big shout out to my nigga Parker
Ill Will, BDP for life nigga
Naughty Gotto, the Big French
Of course the TAT crew, my Brim
The T.S. crew, and the whole
Bronx represent nigga, uhh
The South Bronx, the South Bronx
South Bronx, the South Bronx
Yeah, uhh