Luyện nghe bài hát Ingredients to Time Travel

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

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

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

[Tame
If I had it my way, every wack MC die Friday
Makin Saturday a day
Sunday wouldn't start week off til Monday
One day I wrote yesterday will be tomorrow's scriptures for today
At noon, Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge
Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, those who follow
Swallowin pride like St. Ide's while you stare... a drink
Don't think in a eyeblink I start my hijinks
and a flight [Yeah right, when?]
Tomorrow night, off the record with the treble and the bass
I chase my lyrics the rap race
Last place is not an option in my case
Waste not not because I front not
The Notty his lyrical shotty cocked
and locked up at temple, over instrumentals
("It's all in mind") you No. 2 like the pencil
The Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun
The top gun, the jump like Datsun
I got one, candy-coated rote skits I shit on when I get on
Then flip the scripts like I had on
It's on like electrical, my
alphabetic keeps my competition ridin on my
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, ain't shit")
You to the rescue, let me you
Who the crew, most definite
has to be the Skwad cause I'm the
All you misrepresenters with twelve inches need pinches
Wake the fuck up and check out what is
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, your ain't shit, ain't nobody shit")
I can't see but victories
think they can get to me, then bring it
Cause once I the blunt to my Lieutenant then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The notty headed Newark from NJ and the Sensai
represent fully, bullies out for yappin
Thinkin you'll be rappin, get tapped and say you
While I been hatin fake MC's that make they bacon
with passion, rippin up stickers for reaction
Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm down with the Biz Backspin
Dissin Mikes like the
Thick like the on that Fugee chick
like the dicks in booty flicks
Dissin niggaz like a snooty (trick)
I only pop a coochie if it Gucci
Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts with the
("What's the Dunn" - Tame)
You the flavor like 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 ain't shit, you shit...")
"bom ba zi, it ain't motherfuckers"
("He ain't shit, you shit")

Outro: CMZ

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