Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle -

Yo, yeah,
Yo
Yo, it's the lyrical
The of metaphor
Mista Keith
Chillin with my nigga Funk
up
Got the Squadron, up
up, check it out, check
Now, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
It's the return of the lyrical lunatic, still rough shit
you say? I slap your stink ass, bitch
I and build my skill like an architect
Teflon style, rhymes be
I'm the exalted ruler on the mic with props
All this over hippin the hop bullshit gon'
It beez Keith not Bill, not Sweat
politics be politically incorrect
We keep it hot like sauce, be definite like well OF COURSE
Def Squad a rough course
You weak niggaz can't do me none
Five hundred, radiant I run with the sun
Apparently, you need to check my
And do the to the S-C-I-E-N-C-E
Fake ones fear it, ones cheer it
Cause they all me from the womb of the human spirit
With and reasons I justify my means
See you on the scene, you up like Tyson did to Mitch Greene
In fact yeah it beez like that
If you my dog I'm a slay your cat
The genitonical astrochronical
Splatter crews, all you hear is and oohs
Time to the music bring you down to Earth like Papa Smurf
I'm Wide like on the Web, in your turf
With fledged raps packed with anxiety attacks
For those who I wouldn't be back
that bone chillin horror, killin all ongoin drama
Save the rah rah for mama
Bragga-tocious, prone to
Come the studio, wreck the mic by force of habit
Tantalizing, you feel good like crying
I can't be dissed, so you can trying
And Murray will prevail
And you can eat a shit sandwich and go to