Luyện nghe bài hát Ingredients to Time Travel

[sound of Keith Murray intro Mary J. Blige 'What's the 411' tape
which I could swear has 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 more mily syllables alphabet cereal..."
door slams*

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

"You know who the fuck I am so get off old bullshucks!"
--> (scratched sample)
"He ain't shit, you ain't shit, 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 your week off til Monday
One day tunes I wrote yesterday be tomorrow's scriptures for today
At noon, Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge
Holler at apostles, who in despair, despisin those who follow
Swallowin like St. Ide's while you stare... take a drink
Don't in a eyeblink I won't start my hijinks
and hijack a flight [Yeah right,
night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass
I chase my through 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 your mind") you No. 2 the pencil
The Skwadron, Godson, who got the Bop Gun
The top gun, from the like Datsun
I got one, rote rhymes 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 on my testicles
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, nobody shit")
You to the rescue, let me you
Who the crew, most definite
has to be the Skwad I'm the President
All you misrepresenters your twelve inches need pinches
Wake the up and check out what this is
("he shit, you ain't shit, your momma 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 pass the blunt to my then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The notty headed Newark nigga from NJ and the
represent fully, playin 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 they stickers for
Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm down with the Biz like
Dissin Mikes the Jacksons
Thick like the lips on Fugee chick
Hard like the dicks in 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 with the hoochies
("What's the Dunn" - Tame)
You know the like blue cheese
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 ain't motherfuckers"
("He shit, you ain't shit")

Rhino CMZ

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