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 Shot Ya" on
the sound of the beat (Artifacts assure me that this is J. Blige)]
"My subliminals, mixed criminal chemicals
Got mily syllables than alphabet cereal..."
door slams*

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 shit, you ain't shit, your momma ain't shit, daddy ain't shit"
--> (scratched sample)

One]
If I had it my way, wack MC would die Friday
Makin a better day
Sunday wouldn't start your off til Monday
One day tunes I wrote yesterday will be scriptures for today
At high noon, Boom Skwad Gods knowledge
Holler at apostles, who squalor in despair, those who follow
Swallowin pride St. Ide's while you stare... take a drink
Don't think in a I won't start my hijinks
and a flight [Yeah right, when?]
night, cause off the record with the treble and the bass
I my lyrics through the rap race
Last place is simply not an option in my
not want not because I front not
The Notty his lyrical shotty cocked
and up at your 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, candy-coated rote rhymes 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 shit, you ain't shit, ain't nobody shit")
You to the rescue, let me you
Who the crew, most definite
has to be the cause I'm the President
All you misrepresenters with your twelve need pinches
Wake the fuck up and out what this is
("he ain't shit, you ain't shit, momma ain't shit, ain't nobody shit")
I see nuttin but victories
MC's they can get to me, then bring it
Cause once I pass the to my Lieutenant then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The notty headed Newark from NJ and the Sensai
represent fully, playin bullies out for
you'll be rappin, get tapped and say you scrappin
While I been waitin hatin fake MC's that they bacon
passion, rippin up they stickers for reaction
Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm down with the Biz Backspin
Dissin Mikes like the
Thick like the lips on that chick
Hard the dicks in booty flicks
Dissin like a snooty bitch (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 bleed 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")

Outro: CMZ

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