Luyện nghe bài hát I Know I Got, Skillz

Yo Jef, why you give me a hoopa beat or something
I can go to the park to
Yeah, there you go, alright, I like that, I like
It dope
(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 like
You get your ass kicked in the
(Ohh)
You don't me, the proof is in the pudding
Little boy in the hood, way Cuba Gooding
I flip with the mad pa-style, freeze, music please

I dribble like Basketball-ems, people call me E.T.
(What's that man?)
Extra-Tall ems, you better Shaq-tack, fool, shut up liar
I on the Statue 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 like yall, they got charred
But I'm big Gorilla, 6-7, large
I rhymes like mo duck-kwong you
I smoke-smoke the mic-mic, I Chech and you
You don't Shaq, frankly I don't give a damn
I know I got man, I know I got skillz man

Surprise, look who's back, not a prize from a jack
Look at that, it's Def Jef with the Shaq
Flexin', I'll be crackin' 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 ripping rhymes and dropping bombs like Ali,
Do a solid, don't flex, you go sex
You the time, get the hard hat, the rolex

The way I see, if I was like you I'd be at me
The way I hold it down, swear my name was Gravity
Def Jef with the funk, Def Jef front
You how the name is spelt
I'm making it vital, my title, fool, break
Attack the track like Shaq on a broad
Coming up with the hits, and I'm down with the backboard

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

Ah yeah, don't know nothing about this
The Shaq man's in the arsenal, what's up that
Double XL in the kid, skillz to make mills
Big up, Flava Unit, Town, ya [unverified] large
So this out Shaq man
We gon' let this beat right here, let all
The brothers and know

Nah, nah, let me
I'm a be D-Rock and see what's next on the menu
Mic-checka, the rim and wrecka, rocks from here to Mecca
Boom shack-a-lak-a-lak-a, I got a hand rock ya cradle
Cream you cheese, spread you on my bagle
My Ford boomin' with the clumped-up funk
All you jealous punks stop my dunks

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

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

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