Luyện nghe bài hát Freestyle -

Yo, yeah,
Yo
Yo, the lyrical lexicon
The of metaphor
Mista Keith
Chillin my nigga Funk Flex
up
Got the Squadron, up
Word up, it out, check
Now, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
It's the return of the lyrical lunatic, kickin rough shit
What you say? I slap your stink ass,
I shape and build my like an architect
Teflon style, rhymes be
I'm the exalted ruler on the mic with props
All this over hippin the hop gon' stop
It beez Keith not Bill, not Sweat
Your politics be politically
We keep it hot like sauce, flows be definite well OF COURSE
Def cough a rough course
You weak wack niggaz do me none
Five hundred, radiant I run with the sun
Apparently, you need to check my
And do the knowledge to the
Fake ones fear it, ones cheer it
Cause they all me from the womb of the human spirit
With logic and reasons I my means
See you on the scene, you up like Tyson did to Mitch Greene
In fact black yeah it like that
If you kill my dog I'm a your cat
The supersonical genitonical
Splatter crews, all you hear is and oohs
Time to face the music bring you down to Earth like Smurf
I'm World like on the Web, in your turf
With full fledged raps packed with anxiety
For those who I wouldn't be back
With that bone chillin horror, killin all ongoin
the rah rah for your mama
Bragga-tocious, to static
Come through the studio, the mic by force of habit
Tantalizing, make you feel like crying
I can't be dissed, so you can trying
And Keith Murray will
And you can eat a sandwich and go to hell