Luyện nghe bài hát I Know I Got, Skillz

Yo Jef, why don't you me a hoopa beat or something
I can go to the park to
Yeah, there you go, alright, I like that, I that
It sound
(Bust 'em in the eye Shaq)

You wanna Come fight me
I'll hit ya the wa, psh, psh, psh, see, see
I get dirty after dark, I'll treat Spielberg
You get your ass in the park
(Ohh)
You don't believe me, the is in the pudding
Little boy in the hood, way before Gooding
I flip scripts with the mad pa-style, freeze, music

I dribble rhymes Basketball-ems, people call me E.T.
(What's Shaq man?)
Extra-Tall ems, you better than Shaq-tack, fool, up liar
I lean on the of Liberty when I get tired
Then I'll you in the stomach, I don't give a heck
(Hey yo, why you bug a like that?)

Yo, she on my neck
People walk around yall, they got charred
But I'm big like Gorilla, 6-7,
I kick rhymes like mo you
I the mic-mic, I Chech and Chong you
You don't Shaq, frankly I don't give a damn
I know I got skillz man, I I got skillz man

Surprise, who's back, not a prize from a cracker jack
Look at that, it's Def Jef with the Attack
Flexin', I'll be your back with the boom, boom, bap
Pass the mic over here, you ain't gon' want it
said I got fat, yep, but so did my wallet
Still rhymes and dropping bombs like Ali, Mohammed
Do a solid, don't flex, you go sex
You know the time, get the hard hat, the

The way I see, if I was wack you I'd be at me
The way I hold it down, swear my name was Gravity
Def Jef with the funk, Def Jef don't
You know how the is spelt
I'm making it vital, my title, fool, break
Attack the track like on a whack broad
up with the hits, and I'm coming down with the backboard

Don't fake the funk, just make the sound's up the trunk
The reason your didn't hit the deck is
Because hits don't bump, so get back, ain't no hassle
you ain't holding nuthin', keep sticking around
You get beat down you stole something
Sleep on me and the Shaq and [unverified] own [unverified]
I know I got skills man, I know I got skills man

Ah yeah, don't know nothing about this
The Shaq in the arsenal, what's up like that
Double XL in the nine-oh's kid, to make mills
Big up, Flava Unit, Funky Town, ya large
So check out Shaq man
We let this beat play right here, let all
The brothers and know

Nah, nah, let me
I'm a be like D-Rock and see what's next on the
Mic-checka, the rim and rhyme wrecka, rocks from here to
shack-a-lak-a-lak-a, I got a hand that'll rock ya cradle
Cream you like cheese, you on my bagle
My Explorer boomin' with the clumped-up funk
All you punks can't stop my dunks

They're new like Heavy, built like Chevy, Impala
But Shaq's a smooth
(Yeah, but about rhymin'?)
I can hold my own, shaq-attack, give a dog a bone
Rhymin' is like hoopin', I'm a legend
in the days in the Fush-camp section

Used to kick rhymes baby, baby, baby
once, every twice, three times a lady
Is what I to, riding with my moms
How you me now? I drop bombs
you see me, please tap my hands
I I got skills man, I know I got skills man

I'd to give a shout-out to my boy
Uzi, Def Jef, Swany, Meech
Ron Mac and my other Ron
This is another rough shot the arsenal
And you know what? Booty rappers, stay
Ha-ha-ha, and we out
Ahhh ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha, ahhh, psyche