Luyện nghe bài hát Dumb Out

I'm stuck between platinum and flop, underground and
Conscious, backpack, scratch that, same
I'm between the real and the fakeness
The red pill, pill, real of the Matrix
And I can't take
If the game needs a new look, I'm between a tummy tuck and a lift
And everything I say in these
Is straight from the heart, nah magazines, can't rate this
Cause be debatin it, it's a bit outragous
Like it's an air virus, and shits contagious
I'm downloadin niggaz actually play this
Maybe I'm buggin out, maybe I'm on a
See I was on my stay out shit
The way Mouse kills shit, I'm here just to lay out real
Besides, other styles remind me of spinnin rims
That shit got played out real
See some wrote him off, said he was done
Made a joke of, he enjoyed the run
I don't enjoy shunned, so I'm back as Neo
Fans enjoyed The One, me as begun
I had the whole hood thinkin' he would eat
Rappers tried to diss, thinkin' we never meet
I heard it if you it
You wrote it on online I read it, now I match it nigga bet it
I remember clearly
Once "Pump It Up" stopped soarin, there's a few mother fuckers callin
See I shit spread like cancer
I would folks said, folk ain't answer
A few chicks runnin pullin they pants up
A few stopped actin my private dancer
But a lightbulb hit they started to neglect me
See there I was, thinkin' I was all sexy

Can't be finished, nigga I beg ya pard'
I just let niggaz get a head
I walk to the finish, sprint out chase
Nah sprint out pace, and still win the race
See I'm
Other niggaz legs starts wobblin, when opportunity is knockin
You got the crown, off like Stockton
It's to work, I'm offically clocked in
He is a problem, weavin and
Through the that his label tried to drop him
I leave, even though there's big options
Kev signed me, to keep this shit rockin'
ask me how I'm doin, I been better
Stuck in cold February, a thin sweater
I'm far from a "YES" man, I'm a setter
It's no games, a Def Jam Vendetta
put niggaz in the same sink as me
I mean metaphors, storylines, shit, club shit, girl shit, world shit
They use to ink like me
don't even THINK like me
Who sees what I'm watchin, he poppin'
Don't deserve to drink water the tub that I wash in
WAIT, again, it's a privilege to breath the same air that I farted in
They want no with him
I niggaz categorize me
If my on a mixtape, then capitalize me
I stopped goin' to Mixtape Awards
need them to tell me, the mixtapes is yours
I had other ideas, while loot
I'm thinkin' red carpet, I went and a suit
See I'm Grammy's
Sunglasses on, with my On Top family and a bad handy
Each day there's a "W", it like heaven
I'm at an actress's house, that like neckin'
R&B on, and felt like Meagan
Gave me headache 'til I felt an Excedrin
Talk fly
Least until I bought every pie, me bein' war readys in my
And dudes might as well be Jamie Foxx
to sound like somebody that already died
The kid keep a snub wit 'em, pair of gloves wit 'em
Your first week ain't right, they can't wit 'em
Now if you don't sell 5 mill, they had of 'em
Let me find out Hip Hop's Republican
I'll sum it up to he is about
new to most, they still feelin' him out
Things type bland, Joey seasoned him out
I'm the nicest dude out "Reasonable Doubt"
Say it so
In Peace Luther, there's some other niggaz gay on the low
So live, who can see 'em, no guy
I'm the Mets, was to be ill in '05
As ill as the gets, need a pill a dosage
So if you can't tell, I'm for '06
About to OD, that know me
Can tell you I'm bout to make feel like it's '03
like '99
No names should be but mine, unless you talkin' Big Pun in his prime
'96 Jay, before Dame was throwin' money around
Or without Humpty around
Or 50 Em, Nas talkin' like a gun in his song
during "Children Of The Corn"
Beans the cops came through and try to grill 'em
I'm '95, Big L before they killed 'em
Em before 8 Mile, Shyne before the jail
Canibus, no out before the L shit
Talkin' bout Kiss, DMX when he was wit coke
Or Cuban Linx, with and Ghost
I do it all, who so well in the game
Talkin' Fab, back when he was still his name
On my shit, Memphis Grizzly shit
Like back in the day Clue swiped all of Biggie's shit
Rappers don't need trouble I
it's Rass Kass before the D.W.I
Or Talib Mos, Common before "Be"
If any less common, don't put 'em before me
See, I'm not a rapper, I'm a
Chill Joe stop it, skills speak for you, pop shit
Fuck jail, I'm on my payroll cop
I call that bootleg cable, no box shit
All black, lookin' in the crowd
Heat on him, no shirt, don't try me I'm out
I toast tiny that'll blaow
Ain't gotta see Paul Wall, if you want shiney in your mouth
I probably fool cats, cause I don't ride out in big car
In the streets, like I am big star
And young mother fuckers, is about to fuck up
Like leavin' they whole career in bitch car
No names, but it's no
you know who you are, I'll end it before it goes too far
Your pub fucked, you a liar money
Joe's still "Pump It Up", "Fire" money
Glock for hire money, try to mug me
Call ASCAP, maybe B.M.I for
Please, what's wrong wit 'em, ain't the norm' wit 'em
Ain't too dudes out there, out performin 'em
acquire these skills, I was born wit 'em
Street's askin' what's takin' so wit 'em
Jump Off, I'm the best to
He's the answer, the who's got the next in
I you ask 'em
If Hip Hop is all smoke and mirrors, then I'm the and a napkin
New dudes is whack, vet's is has-been's
were Top 20, till I crept right passed 'em
It's a wrap, Joey sealin' it
Cold out, Long Johns still dealin' it
Still peelin' it
If I only get 'em two times, just know it was the dilinger
It's that YAK music, don't know how to act
my Kanye on, puttin' out "Crack Music"
Car jack music, got they lack music
Send my man, get rid of the pack music
That I'm music, that click clack music
That A-Team, Muggs, that Fab and music
Now who they fuckin' with me
They just that fuckin' with me, they didn't mean it (NAH)