Luyện nghe bài hát Jackin' for Beats '99

* several different beats are used in this
ice cube's "jacking for beats"

(jigga my nigga-jay-z)

What's my name

And who I'm wit
All my
Uh uh uh labels better get it
better gimme that beat fool
Clik clik you been now
You didn't sticky fingaz on ya track now
Somebody you number 1 in the streets
why I'm coming for you first jackin' your beat
I took ya beat and rearranged it on some dumb
Got robbed on the broad day public
The thugs it it's not a game
solo on that ass but it's still the same

(holla rule)
robba robba
Jackin' rappers beats and 'em hotta hotta
Stealin' all ya spins ya dollas dollas
Killas if you feel me just folla folla (what, on)
Take it to the streets hold ya gats and bust the
Even if it's off your plate I to eat
I'm on some for no apparent reason
I it wit y'all I'm ready to die breathin'

(hate me now-nas)
It's the I rob
The that I take
The I snake
For 30 help you perform at the wake
Touch ya and everything I touch I take
Hate me now 'cause later gon be too
I you
Everything I spit is
I'm the illest killa they ever to universal
F the
I'm God son
As soon as they blink bet ya bottom dolla rob 'em

(how to cent)
My sticky fingaz turn fists ya jaw
Beat ya ass in real life at the awards
The real from brooklyn God bless he got outed
You just a fake clown who front and about it
I got a new
For a few mil
to kill
You fruity dru hill
You spare change you ain't even half a man
Matter of you ain't even half the man ya moms was

(ha-juvenile)
Oh you you was safe, ha
you could escape, ha
'cause we mates, ha
Oh you I wouldn't get yo cake, ha
You thought that beat from the dirty south gon get raped, ha
And birds wanna sticky baby, ha
Dogs run around sticky crazy, ha
He got no type of sense, ha
No what I do
Might even my own crew

(throw ya gunz-onyx)
The original 'em out bring 'em out dead
Comin' at me kid I put that thing to ya head
Sticky fingaz for self call the cops
Don't even to me about the onyx shit you'll get shot

(play cease)
5 in the morning killas at ya door
Colt 4-4 I'm puttin' chalk on your
Find you up the block ya house dead in the store
Work the beat pigeons and I'm bucking 'em all
Press ya luck and fall
Neva seen nothing raw
I'm what the world waitin' for
no more
This wack shit take no more
Should've been banned the streets should've it a law

(what ya want-eve)
I'm for war
What ya niggas want (what, what, what, it)
touch
All niggas sweet even rob swizz beats
Nowadays producers 50 g's
Jack they beat kid I did my for free
Jerk you for ya pub I payin' a fee
I just it up on the mpc

(the is goin' on over here-busta rhymes)
Long as you live neva seen this while
ya beat and flipped it right in my style
Just back niggas be bitin' my style
And if it's in the crowd I put some life in the crowd
God's gift to the
Running 'em
'em down
Empires be tumblin'
The end of the world is comin'
Throw ya ass in the
Nothing to
the rules
Playin' for
I'ma shark in the waters it ain't safe in the
fingaz and I'm jackin' for beats