Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Front

Used to get, bent, now I to the fullest
is full of insolent bullets
I'm like a Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott'
with a toxic, the plot begins to thicken
I begin to spitting like vintage Pac,
sinister, ever since the the Doc replenished me
The day he gave me that shot when I was just 'bout to
So to not see him with me would be a shocking
And I'm the definition of what a concrete is
'Cause no matter how many you sock me in it
And knock me to the canvas, even the critics
Know if I get off to a rocky start, I'll always have a Rocky finish
Eat me brocoli, spinach, cocky?
But I hope I you when I told ya how dope I am at this
And put emphasis on the "dope," so when names up
In that conversation of who's the dopest, better mine in it
And don't mind me, while I remind you of the
You won't find anywhere, where it and I unload my pen explodes
there's no rhymes in it, reload in no time
Let fly even sixty seconds that go by, so you know I meant it
In I was so shy, timid
Two pairs of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I
Begging my mom for K-Mart MacGregors they were new
St. de Paul, those Pony's were used, and no size fitted
But kissed old days, adios, I did it
They said I was a gimmick, now I'm the one those guys mimic
Now you don't wanna go starting no argument
'Cause you know I'll win it, name a flow that's authentic, and don't front

Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, word
front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Yo why you frontin', you I got you open, kid

Rest in piece to Big Proof, you was a beast, you lyrically me
Molded my flow off of you, spirit's flowing through me
I love you, Doody, you I feel so incomplete
I'm no king, no need for rose to be thrown at my feet
I'm a thorn in side, get thrown into a throne
Better watch the fucking tone you speak, feel like I'm in the zone
I'm in a whole different on my mothafuckin' own, it's just me
No can compete, and I've never been known to retreat
From beef, beep-beep, follow trends or in defeat
I'm still as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit
I don't know what to eat, fucking microphone or the beat
Bitch, nobody's mind like mine
It's nose to the grindstone time, homes, mind's blown
'Cause I like I'm still trying to get signed, up in the Ebony Showcase
With Denaun screaming "Who the fuck you the mic?"
asked you like my shit from the get
I'd rather ask you to my ass, bitch
You had you a nice run, now take a
I meet my match, I'mma strike that bitch first
'Cause on the mic I gotta represent the rappers
The real rappers get their mothafuckin' cracking
to Buckshot and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?
You don't like it? Suck a cock! Almost
Before I signed with the Doc, I almost with Duck Down
'Cause Rawkus didn't make no offers, so mothafuck
They jerked me around so what's up
Wow, how much of an asshole would I like
Rubbing it and holding some now, but don't front

Don't front, you I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, word
front, you know I got you open, kid
Don't front, you I got you open, kid
front, you know I got you open, kid
Yo why you frontin', you I got you open, kid

Late at night, used to catch a buzz, couldn't
Now I write the of shit to make you wipe
But wear diapers you might leave a streak
I'm on a streak windshield couldn't wipe
It's hard to decipher what cypher I might jump into
'Cause I'm hyper or something, needing or something is lighting
This fire under me, it's breathing new life, it's like I died once
I some people only live twice, and it's funny
My days of being broke was so long ago, I lost my concept of
But you dimes won't get a fucking from me
Oh shit, I'm on one knee
I'm having a stroke of genius, Elizabeth I'm coming to you,
From boy to man, it's still make a whore like a thyroid gland
I'm in another category, man, put me up with them pop stars
I never needed a pat on the back to get at a boy,
No offense? Yes offense, precedents has been set never get met
Middle finger pressed against Moby's
to Obie, the curtains closed on my show
(But forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it)
You can't it, oh
Got a whole generation of rappers up that are nutty with the flow
But convince me you've
An MC since me who's this with the fucking mincing of words
Without words that'll make you feel like I'm pinching a nerve
Whose mentally disturbed, you might as stick a knife in me and turn
It'll be like my skin being burned
Hah, there isn't one, when will you learn?
Never served if memory serves
I'd battle that 'til my own recollection these words

You know I got you kid, stop fronting
You I got you open, Word Life