Luyện nghe bài hát Ingredients to Time Travel

[sound of Keith intro from Mary J. Blige 'What's 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 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 who the fuck I am so get off that old bullshucks!"
--> (scratched sample)
"He ain't shit, you ain't shit, your momma ain't shit, ain't shit"
--> (scratched sample)

One]
If I had it my way, wack MC would die Friday
Makin a better day
Sunday wouldn't your week off til Monday
One day I wrote yesterday will be tomorrow's scriptures for today
At noon, Boom Skwad Gods with knowledge
at apostles, who squalor in despair, despisin those who follow
Swallowin pride like St. while you stare... take a drink
Don't think in a eyeblink I start my hijinks
and a flight [Yeah right, when?]
Tomorrow night, cause off the with the treble and the bass
I chase my lyrics through the rap
place is simply not an option in my case
Waste not want not I front not
The Notty his lyrical shotty cocked
and locked up at your temple, 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 jump Datsun
I got one, candy-coated rote rhymes skits I on when I get on
flip the scripts like I had Zips on
It's on like electrical, my
keeps my competition ridin on my testicles
("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 Skwad cause I'm the
All you misrepresenters with your inches need pinches
Wake the fuck up and out what this is
("he ain't shit, you shit, your 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 the blunt to my Lieutenant then we in it
For the infinite, no play
The notty headed Newark nigga from NJ and the
represent fully, 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
with passion, rippin up they for reaction
Practicin on rap has-beens, I'm with the Biz like Backspin
Dissin like the Jacksons
Thick the lips on that Fugee chick
Hard like the in booty flicks
Dissin niggaz like a snooty (trick)
I pop a coochie if it smells Gucci
Get the lucci hit it for months and then smoke blunts the hoochies
("What's the Dunn" - Tame)
You know the like blue cheese
on how I crews 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 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, Descent
INI, Reflections, check the
Aight God, what's fake
Time to turn platinum to chrome
Green purple red white chrome