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 rapper die

MC's waste they time chasin' millions
While KRS-One, the minds of the children
I'm a followin' of a hundred and forty-four thousand
few heads up in project housin'

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

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

How do you I kick a lyrical style no and you figure
It's simple, I'm a rap God, and a nigga
mean I'm bigger, it simply means I'm smarter
For starters, I at you poetically 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 of panties underneath your bubblegoose
KRS-One fuck up parties dramatically
My reflex'll slap a wack rapper

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

Don't you realize, that I'm all about
I got friends 'cause I killed all my rivals
up at the rhyme recitals, took they 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
a rapper gwan die

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

Now you wanna the dragon in sound
But I've got the club show locked down
Platinum and gold don't hold in my
You gots to keep it on the mic, when they see ya

I manifest, in the West the and overseas
The vision in rap is wack and I don't know of
I New York to be specific
The South Bronx, but in Japan I'm gifted

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

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

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