Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Front

Used to get, bent, now I represent to the
Pencil is full of bullets
I'm like a Doberman Pinscher, Pitbull and a
with a toxic, the plot begins to thicken
I begin to like vintage Pac, demented
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 image
And I'm the of what a concrete chin is
no matter how many times you sock me in it
And knock me to the canvas, the boxing critics
Know that if I get off to a start, I'll always have a Rocky finish
Eat me brocoli, spinach, cocky?
But I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at
And put emphasis on the "dope," so when come up
In that of who's the dopest, better throw mine in it
And don't mind me, while I remind you of the
You won't find anywhere, it fires and I unload my pen explodes
'Til there's no rhymes in it, reload in no
Let insults fly even sixty that go by, so you know I meant it
In school I was so shy,
Two of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member
Begging my mom for K-Mart MacGregors cause were new
St. Vincent de Paul, Pony's were used, and no size fitted
But them old days, adios, I did it
They said I was a gimmick, now I'm the one that those mimic
Now you fuckers don't wanna go starting no
'Cause you know I'll win it, a flow that's more authentic, and don't front

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, kid
Don't front, you know I got you open,
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

Rest in piece to Big Proof, you was a beast, you mirrored 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 petals to be thrown at my feet
I'm a in your side, get thrown into a throne
Better watch the fucking tone that you speak, feel I'm in the zone
I'm in a whole different on my mothafuckin' own, it's just me
No opponents can compete, and never been known to retreat
From beef, beep-beep, follow trends or wallow in
I'm still as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit
'Cause I don't know to eat, fucking microphone or the beat
Bitch, nobody's works like mine
It's nose to the grindstone time, homes, your mind's
'Cause I rhyme like I'm still to get signed, up in the Ebony Showcase
With Denaun screaming "Who the passed you the mic?"
Never asked you my shit from the get
I'd rather ask you to my ass, bitch
You had you a nice run, now a hike
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
Word to and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?
You don't it? Suck a cock! Almost forgot
Before I signed with the Doc, I almost with Duck Down
'Cause didn't make no offers, so mothafuck Loud
They jerked me around so what's up
Wow, how much of an asshole would I sound
Rubbing it and some grudge now, but don't front

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

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

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