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 Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott'
Mixed a toxic, the plot begins to thicken
I begin to like vintage Pac, demented
Demonic sinister, since the the Doc replenished me
The day he gave me that shot I was just 'bout to quit
So to not see him with me be a shocking image
And I'm the definition of a concrete 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, cocky?
But I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at
And put on the "dope," so when names come up
In that conversation of the dopest, better throw mine in it
And don't mind me, I remind you of the flow
You won't find anywhere, where it fires and I unload my pen
'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 them 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 wanna go starting no
'Cause you I'll win it, name 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
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 mirrored me
Molded my flow off of you, your flowing through me
I love you, Doody, without you I feel so
I'm no king, no need for petals to be thrown at my feet
I'm a thorn in your side, get thrown into a
Better watch the fucking tone that you speak, like I'm in the zone
I'm in a whole different on my mothafuckin' own, it's just me
No opponents can compete, and I've never been known to
From beef, beep-beep, trends or wallow in defeat
I'm still as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit
'Cause I know what to eat, fucking microphone or the beat
Bitch, nobody's mind works mine
It's nose to the grindstone time, homes, your mind's
I rhyme like I'm still trying to get signed, up in the Ebony Showcase
With Denaun screaming "Who the fuck you the mic?"
Never asked you like my from the get
I'd rather ask you to wipe my ass,
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 real
The real rappers get mothafuckin' skills cracking
Word to and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?
You don't like it? a cock! Almost forgot
Before I signed with the Doc, I almost signed with Duck
'Cause Rawkus didn't make no offers, so Loud
They jerked me around so up now?
Wow, how much of an asshole would I sound
Rubbing it and holding grudge 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

at night, used to catch a buzz, couldn't write
Now I write the type of shit to make you
But diapers cause you might leave a streak
I'm on a streak wipers couldn't wipe
hard to decipher what cypher I might jump 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 long ago, I lost my concept of
But you dimes get a fucking nickle from me
Oh shit, I'm down on one
I'm having a stroke of genius, Elizabeth I'm coming to you,
From boy to man, it's still make a whore moan a thyroid gland
I'm in category, man, don't put me up with them pop stars
I needed a pat on the back to get at a boy, band
No offense? Yes offense, has been set that'll never get met
Middle finger pressed against nose
Shouts to Obie, the curtains closed on my
(But never forget I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it)
You take it, oh
Got a whole of rappers coming up that are nutty with the flow
But convince me heard
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 like my skin Indian burned
Hah, there isn't one, when will you learn?
Never been served if memory
I'd battle that my own recollection remembers these words

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