Luyện nghe bài hát Ingredients to Time Travel

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

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

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

[Tame
If I had it my way, every wack MC die Friday
Saturday a better day
Sunday wouldn't start week off til Monday
One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be scriptures for today
At high noon, Skwad Gods with knowledge
Holler at apostles, who in despair, despisin those who follow
Swallowin pride like St. Ide's while you stare... take a
think in a eyeblink I won't start my hijinks
and hijack a flight [Yeah right,
Tomorrow night, cause off the record the treble and the bass
I chase my lyrics the rap race
Last is simply not an option in my case
Waste not want not I front not
The keeps his lyrical shotty cocked
and locked up at your temple, instrumentals
("It's all in your mind") you No. 2 like the
The Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun
The top gun, from the like Datsun
I got one, candy-coated rote rhymes I shit on when I get on
Then the scripts like I had Zips on
on like electrical, my symmetrical
alphabetic keeps my ridin on my testicles
("he ain't shit, you shit, ain't nobody shit")
You to the rescue, let me you
Who the best crew, definite
has to be the Skwad cause I'm the
All you misrepresenters with your twelve inches need
Wake the fuck up and 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, then it
Cause once I pass the to my Lieutenant then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The headed Newark nigga from NJ and the Sensai
fully, playin bullies out for yappin
Thinkin you'll be rappin, get 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 the Jacksons
Thick like the lips on that Fugee
Hard like the dicks in booty
Dissin like a snooty bitch (trick)
I only pop a coochie if it smells
Get the lucci hit it for months and then blunts with the hoochies
("What's the Dunn" - Tame)
You know the flavor blue cheese
on how I make crews and school 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 ain't motherfuckers"
("He shit, you ain't shit")

Rhino CMZ

75% water, H2O, PE, alcohol, oil
Dependin on temperature, the hot shit?
Rhino, Tame, Boom Skwad, Descent
INI, Reflections, check the
Aight God, what's fake
Time to turn platinum to purple
Green purple yellow red white