Luyện nghe bài hát How Many Styles

Intro [maestro wes]
the power move (yeah)
It's the power (yeah)
to the power move (yeah)
It's the plan (word)

To the plan (yeah)

baby, the maestro wild like a psycho
how we do

Chorus [maestro wes]
It in with the fat, out with the wack
In with the fat out the wack
You niggas can't rap, so I want my money
Can you dig it? (I can dig it), can you dig it? (I can dig it)
In the fat, out with the wack
In the fat out with the wack
You niggas can't rap, so I want my money
Can you dig it? (I can dig it), can you dig it? (I can dig it)

fresh wes]
Yo, I walk tall like hanibal
Hit a grand slam my man don mattingly
Come prepared if you ever try to me (why)
I got coming out my anal cavity
Straight outta
Ready to blows, niggas want to quit
my nuts and my windows
I'm on tape decks, rhyming to my apex
If a nigga like he can bite me with a latex
when I'm rhyming, heads are declining
Like brian mulroney, are resigning
Competition ain't in of me
Maestro you get all thses dope rhymes from?
I don't know, they just to me
You fucking with a crazy
I don't kiss and tell, but I know your mother
I ain't
Mmm, why did gill a mean curry chicken
for me to get mad check(? )
So wack step to the left
I'm fat a cadillac, cut like a battle axe
I got crazy freaks, from bc to halifax
Yeah, now the maest is
This beats alright, but now I I want a xylophone
my cipher grown, many mics are blown
You're in the zone
Now I gotta flow, hurdle any
to show, and clock the dough
So many people try to the bro
But I competition like an octago(? )
maestro!, fresh w-e-s big up to fly ju(? ) and my nigga big jess
Yes, my peeps 1-6-2
I met her summer on jamaica avenue
Now every beat I is a hit
But tell me, how many styles can one flip?

Yeah, ha ha

[maestro wes]
From the lungs of the maestro, hail the hail the phelgm
Niggas getting grim I begin
To the funk to radio stations to bump me
You should have never let my ass into country
Word to god, I'm real
I'm even deadlier than montana with a green card
Fuck you and your demo
of tryin' to imitate... innovate
I the mic but I don't pull cards
Bust your ass plus julio by the schoolyard
Don't try me, because your style is history
I'm more flavour than the kernel's(sp? ) rotisserie
I bone and I injure limbs
come a long way like virgina slims
I do a show the bandstand, never met the sandman
with the big tits give me a gland stand(? )
Older broads want to jock me, from fox wants my rock
Let me stop, and burn
Chumps want to turn wild, you say you got
But why was your jumping turnstiles
You got money *laughter*
I'm so dope, this shit's
All my is the shits
But tell me how many styles can one flip?

[maestro fresh wes]
Yeah, 1994
Brother
I want to say what's up to my people,
the finch, jungle, flemington park, everywhere
You know what I'm
Toronto flavour, mad wrizzech in efizzect