Luyện nghe bài hát Don't Front

Used to get, bent, now I represent to the
Pencil is of insolent bullets
I'm like a Doberman Pinscher, and a Rott'
Mixed with a toxic, the plot begins to
I begin to spitting like vintage Pac,
Demonic sinister, 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 chin is
no matter how many times you sock me in it
And knock me to the canvas, even the boxing
Know that if I get off to a start, I'll always have a Rocky finish
Eat me brocoli, spinach, Nope
But I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at
And put emphasis on the "dope," so when names up
In that conversation of the dopest, better throw mine in it
And don't mind me, while I remind you of the
You won't anywhere, where it fires and I unload my pen explodes
'Til there's no in it, reload in no time
Let insults fly even sixty seconds that go by, so you I meant it
In school I was so shy,
Two pairs of jeans I'd alternate, clothes, I 'member
my mom for K-Mart MacGregors cause they were new
St. Vincent de Paul, those Pony's were used, and no fitted
But kissed old days, adios, I did it
said I was a gimmick, now I'm the one that those guys mimic
Now you fuckers don't go starting no argument
'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
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
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

Rest in piece to Big Proof, you was a beast, you lyrically me
Molded my off of you, your spirit's flowing through me
I love you, Doody, without you I so incomplete
I'm no king, no need for rose petals to be thrown at my
I'm a thorn in your side, get thrown a throne
Better watch the tone that you speak, feel like I'm in the zone
I'm in a whole different league on my own, it's just me
No opponents can compete, and I've never been to retreat
From beef, beep-beep, trends or wallow in defeat
I'm still hungry as fuck, but even say bon appetit
'Cause I don't know what to eat, microphone or the beat
Bitch, mind works like mine
It's nose to the grindstone time, homes, your blown
'Cause I rhyme I'm still trying to get signed, up in the Ebony Showcase
With screaming "Who the fuck passed you the mic?"
Never asked you like my shit the get
I'd rather ask you to wipe my ass,
You had you a nice run, now take a
I ever meet my match, I'mma strike that first
'Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real
The real rappers get their mothafuckin' cracking
to Buckshot and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?
You don't like it? Suck a cock! forgot
Before I with the Doc, I almost signed with Duck Down
'Cause Rawkus make no offers, so mothafuck Loud
They jerked me around so up now?
Wow, how much of an asshole I sound like
Rubbing it and holding some grudge now, but don't

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
front, you know I got you open, word
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
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 shit to make you
But wear diapers you might leave a streak
I'm on a windshield wipers couldn't wipe
It's hard to decipher what cypher I jump into tonight
'Cause I'm hyper or something, needing someone or something is
This fire under me, breathing new life, it's like I already died once
I guess people only live twice, and it's funny
My days of broke was so long ago, I lost my concept of money
But you dimes get a fucking nickle 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 moan like a thyroid
I'm in another category, man, don't put me up with pop stars
I needed a pat on the back to get at a boy, band
No offense? Yes offense, precedents has set that'll never get met
Middle finger pressed against Moby's
Shouts to Obie, the closed on my show
(But never forget that I'm the one you wouldn't make it)
You take it, oh
Got a whole generation of coming up that are nutty with the flow
But convince me heard
An MC since me who's this good with the fucking mincing of
Without mincing words that'll make you feel like I'm pinching a
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 that 'til my own recollection remembers words

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