Luyện nghe bài hát Dear Elpee

El-Pee,
How's summer been?
been fine
I heard you had a good time at camp
Oh, yeah, I to Len, he said everythings cool
Oh, yo, I liked "End To End Burner"
That diss me thing on the internet was pretty funny
Yeah it's sucker
Uh, yeah, and I was talking, ya know,
trying to sell my to distributors
And they take it because, you know
Some fat white kid figured it'd be funny to
Well, you know, I a little poem about it
and I hope you like it
So your mother read it to you
and if you guys like it you can me back

I'm a Anticon iconoclast for cataclysm
Tell Fox dissing Sole, bad executive
Your frail, with a spoon I could dissect it
like Corky got his nubs on a websters dictionary
A Ras Kass and a brand new MPC
Pressing all them pretty making wack beats
To hell with phat beats I'd rather acapella
I'd rather be broke and have a resent
Not a king, a pawn, a pegan for me to pee on
out 9th street, a big sign, El-Pee got served in neon
Trendy underground 'cause you haven't got a choice
away your elitist buddies and you haven't got a voice
No five thousand for radio, no thou for adds and banners
No paying record stores for all your Rawkus
Well-timed marketing scheme, its cool to be
But if it was year you'd be a dun or a Missy Elliot
And after indie bravado and the label has recouped
You're broker than when left you crying for a record deal from Luke
I strike you you femanine to blackball
be serving you 'till you're serving me ice cream in a mall
Some fool this is an underground Canibus and LL
Well that's comedy, 'cause I'll all three of y'all
Heard Rupert had to starve all the artists to feed your ego
Running around the Bay looking for Sole with your foot in mouth
I heard you like the Bay (castro) but think four tracks are
Lost in the and all your mixdowns sound like crap
Hiding lack of intellect behind hipster catch phrase and
Indellibles'll never get a full-length 'cause you don't wanna be
Fine, I heard you wanna kill me and get after me
The only you ever witnessed was on Menace ll Society
Try to sound and got masses fooled by your lack of rhythm
I elevate you perpetuate your malopropism

[Sole El-P]
Yo, wha, what did he just me dun?
Yo, I don't man
Yo, I, I know what he just called you man
Well, yo, go get the books, go get the
Yo, man, well apparently you have ripped all the pages out in the dictionary
man, 'cause used all the words
So I'm never gonna out what he called me?
He's big words against me?
Yo, this is god

I'm a hip hop artist, you biting emcee sucker
Had a crayon contest with retarted kids and picked the album cover
Picked the emcee to diss subliminally, every line dissected
Yeah, I you on the internet, to your face and on record
For the record, I know the from which out you have stepped
First you sound like Beatnuts, then mr. 4,000 syllables
One bar, out of breath on stage a
Gotta quit rockin' mics and start an asthma inhaler
El-Producto, as Fox
Since when do indie records up in a W-E-A box?
By saying independent, you belittle the whole movement
Real emcee's work hard, ain't got to put out their music
conspiracy, but this ain't used by No Limit
Mad 'cause you didn't blow up, the victim of your own wack
But some fools bought into it they don't know no better
That you're a pimp, only out for the cheddar
Yo, what's a emcee that can't freestyle?
All those references to emcee's, come battle me
in Boston, you starting calling fools out?
And when tried to battle, you were the first to break out
Well, you surely don't wanna battle, of you wanna fight, you're bigger
Fine, you win, we can have a to see who's the biggest wigger
Oh, you win again, it must feel great, I you don't like white emcee's
in your Kani and X hats for a fresh set of Echo's and Adidas
You as hip hop as Garth and as manly as gartar belts
And if you're so creative, talk about something than yourself
No, I'm not New York or any of your comrades in arms
I'm tearing down posterboy Miss Piggy-lookin' leprachaun
El-Pee vs. The Spice (I got 5 on scary spice)
But both of y'all are in desperate need of backup when it's live
And I know they think original but follow me through this portal
You bit your whole styles from an underground emcee Vordul
Spread about me to everyone you meet, evade being a man
I heard you're out an instrumental album of sitars, pots and pans
You've done enough talking, so I know you ain't fading
Have your boy Rupert fly you out, I'll serve you on the Wake Up Show
The red-headed kingpin, step child to a little herpe sore
Heard you only pull females when you tell'em a lesbian
Wanna sign autographs, but all your fans are
The will not be televised, as your #1 fan becomes your master
I'd to give you a hand but all I got is a middle finger
Farakhan won't this, so we can finish it on Jerry Springer
Newsweek martyr, bring your rhetoric
You outta tootsie roll under your rock, two minutes of fame got cut short
FYI: starving artists don't have luncheons
Got a horrible freestyle and the rest of style is (studio punch-ins)
The dun-crusher busts fresh overly when I
And so-called freestyles, they all popped up on your album
Manipulate your connects so they wanna see me on a
But I guarantee you 'cause you know 1-on 1 you'd get served
Now time to pay dues like when Daddy Warbucks
your face onto the cover of the last Stress
We gonna battle, so write your ahead of time
And I'll still twice as fresh
And keep it all in the family, Rose, I'll take a back seat
Keep my name out your mouths like my wax the racks of (phat beats)
Fat ego's inflated, hope you liked my poem
And hope to from you soon, signed, your friend, Sole