Luyện nghe bài hát High School Rock

Wake up mind black people it's ill
Superior people use skill
We can any congressional bill at will
The hip hop nation will
all in society with inner city philosophy
The hip hop in me must come out or die to lock in me no
properly
I bigin to shout out out approximately
single syllable words per second
like I am God you are God, we are God, it
Time to sell it in a battle, I'll never jet it
Like a shot to ya head I'm embedded in your
With constant lyrical rhyme
At the end of time, I'll be in my
the sign, men, rhymin
like an oratorical
I still but I'm climbin
Newsflash the latest findin
Ya environment created in ya mind and in ya heart
displays art
The highest level of mental expression, your part

I'm the wise on the mic (x3)
knows

All motherfuckers tryin to be large
with their two car just like El DeBarge
It's played out, out, over
Talk to ya broker, time to give back that Rover, soldier!
I told ya woe the hip-hop perpetrator
Wholesome like a stealin all ya flavour
Danger ya better rearrange ya thinkin
Check what you and drinkin, ya breath is stinkin
with the stench of a snitch information, leakin
up with the enemies of Kris speakin
But I'm in 1999
feelin fine while MCs will be out of sight and outta mind
Rewind cos I got a bit of time
Negativity will be wiped out by after turpentine
I find my combines mobility, creativity
positivity, purger of
to a wide vicinity, your facility
O silly me, killin me I to see your stupidity
I rock way you can't get wit me
or go wit me or wit me
Frankly, is wrong, people, poetry
ya little off-the-head rhyme
It's way your bedtime, for the tenth time
tryin ta get mine
I from the park with my arc in the dark
A spark, the little Park sparked now I'm in ya heart
Everytime you think I'm one way, I come another way
If you ain't got no fly rhymes, say
Run away, run away, run away....little boy
Like the TAT crew I terrorise your
Noise is I hear
when you shout rhyme into the atmosphere
The master's here!

(x2)

Now which wants their title tooken, defended
I see my it's open-ended
I can move somethin around like ya booty ass sound,
What happened? You be an Apollo Amatuer Night winner?
Now the you retrudge
Don't you I am that lyrical gate keeper
You'll get like the sleeper
No peep tha, no mine, no peep this hard style
that keeps the floatin like a foetus, meanwhile
you your head, you can't belive this godchild
This recommend ya and because you're not fertile
or {pronounced "fertil"}
Your reflex's slow like a
Yeah my you circle from papers and journals
Without rehearsal, *?mic is all?* is the worst
I verse, I sua
a million children
in Tiananmen
Willing and illing, comin thru the ceiling
Enough of this reteric let's building