Luyện nghe bài hát High School Rock

Wake up your mind black people ill
Superior people use skill
We can defeat any bill at will
The hip hop nation will
all problems in with inner city philosophy
The hip hop in me must out or die to lock in me no doubt
properly
I bigin to shout out out approximately
three syllable words per second
like I am God you are God, we are God, it
Time to it in a lyrical battle, I'll never jet it
Like a shot to ya head I'm embedded in your
With conscience lyrical rhyme
At the end of time, be in my prime
Read the sign, men,
an oratorical shymin
I look still but I'm
Newsflash here's the findin
Ya whole environment created in ya mind and in ya
Hip-hop art
The highest level of expression, play your part

I'm the intelligent on the mic (x3)
Everybody

All these motherfuckers to be large
with their two car garage just El DeBarge
It's out, fadin out, over
Talk to ya broker, time to give back that Rover, soldier!
I ya woe onto the hip-hop perpetrator
Wholesome like a neighbour all ya flavour
Danger danger ya better rearrange ya
Check what you eatin and drinkin, ya is stinkin
with the stench of a with information, leakin
linkin up with the enemies of Kris
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 out by pain after turpentine
I find my rhymes mobility, creativity
positivity, of sensibility
to a wide vicinity, engulfin your
O me, killin me I begin 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
Forget ya little rhyme
It's way past your bedtime, for the tenth
tryin ta get mine
I went from the park 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 I terrorise your toys
Noise is what I
you shout your rhyme into the atmosphere
The master's here!

(x2)

Now which motherfucker wants their title tooken,
I see my schedule open-ended
I can somethin around like ya booty ass sound, beginner
What You couldn't be an Apollo Amatuer Night winner?
Now the teacher you
Don't you I am that lyrical gate keeper
You'll get like the sleeper
No peep tha, no peep mine, no this hard style
keeps the party floatin like a foetus, meanwhile
you hold your head, you can't belive godchild
This *?sins?* recommend ya and you're not fertile
or {pronounced "fertil"}
Your reflex's slow like a
my picture you circle from papers and journals
Without rehearsal, *?mic is first is the worst
I verse, I sua
Into a children
in buildings
Willing and start illing, comin thru the
of this reteric let's start building