Luyện nghe bài hát Ingredients to Time Travel

[sound of Keith Murray intro from Mary J. Blige the 411' tape
which I could swear has been set to B.I.G.'s "Who Ya" based on
the sound of the beat (Artifacts assure me that this is J. Blige)]
"My subliminals, mixed with chemicals
Got more mily syllables alphabet cereal..."
*car slams*

Tame: I gots ta get bag of bam ba zi, fuck this!

"You who the fuck I am so get off that old bullshucks!"
--> (scratched sample)
"He ain't shit, you shit, your momma ain't shit, daddy ain't shit"
--> (scratched sample)

One]
If I had it my way, every wack MC die Friday
Makin a better day
Sunday wouldn't start your week off til
One day tunes I wrote will be tomorrow's scriptures for today
At high noon, Skwad Gods with knowledge
Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, despisin who follow
Swallowin like St. Ide's while you stare... take a drink
Don't think in a eyeblink I start my hijinks
and hijack a flight right, when?]
night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass
I chase my lyrics through the rap
Last place is simply not an option in my
Waste not want not because I not
The Notty keeps his lyrical shotty
and locked up at your temple, over
("It's all in your mind") you No. 2 the pencil
The Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun
The top gun, from the jump Datsun
I got one, candy-coated rote skits I shit on when I get on
Then flip the scripts I had Zips on
It's on like electrical, my
alphabetic my competition ridin on my testicles
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, nobody shit")
You to the rescue, let me you
Who the best crew, definite
has to be the cause I'm the President
All you misrepresenters your twelve inches need pinches
the fuck up and check out what this is
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, your ain't shit, ain't nobody shit")
I can't see nuttin but
MC's think they can get to me, bring it
Cause once I pass the blunt to my then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The notty Newark nigga from NJ and the Sensai
fully, playin bullies out for yappin
Thinkin be rappin, get tapped and say you scrappin
While I been hatin fake MC's that make they bacon
passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction
Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm down with the Biz like
Dissin Mikes like the
Thick like the lips on that chick
Hard the dicks in booty flicks
Dissin niggaz a snooty bitch (trick)
I only pop a if it smells Gucci
Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts with the
("What's the Dunn" - Tame)
You know the flavor like blue
on how I make crews bleed and MC's who try to do me

("He shit, you ain't... ahh motherfucker")
"Do me baby, do me baby"
("he shit, you ain't shit...")
"bom ba zi, it over motherfuckers"
("He shit, you ain't shit")

Outro: CMZ

75% water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil
on temperature, what's the hot shit?
Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Hidden
INI, Reflections, the Twins
Aight God, recognize what's
Time to turn platinum to purple
purple yellow red white chrome