Luyện nghe bài hát Jackin' for Beats '99

* several different are used in this song
Like ice "jacking for beats"

(jigga my nigga-jay-z)

What's my muthafuckin'

And who I'm wit
All my
Uh uh uh labels get it right
Rappers better that beat fool
Clik clik you robbed now
You didn't know fingaz on ya track now
Somebody said you 1 in the streets
That's why I'm coming for you first your beat
I ya beat and rearranged it on some dumb shit
Got robbed on the radio broad day
The thugs loved it it's not a
Went solo on that ass but it's still the

(holla rule)
Beat robba
rappers beats and make 'em hotta hotta
Stealin' all ya spins plus ya dollas
Killas if you feel me just folla (what, come on)
it to the streets hold ya gats and bust the heat
Even if off your plate I gots to eat
I'm on some bullshit for no apparent
I want it wit I'm ready to die breathin'

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

(how to cent)
My sticky fingaz turn fists ya jaw
Beat ya ass in real life at the awards
The real fifty from brooklyn God bless he got
You just a fake clown who front and rout it
I got a new
For a few mil
Shoot to
You like dru hill
You spare change you ain't half a man 'cause
Matter of fact you 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 thought I get yo cake, ha
You thought beat from the dirty south wasn't gon get raped, ha
And birds have sticky baby, ha
Dogs run around stayin' crazy, ha
He ain't got no of sense, ha
No tellin' I do
even jack my own crew

(throw ya gunz-onyx)
The original take 'em out bring 'em out
Comin' at me wrong kid I put thing to ya head
Sticky going for self call the cops
even talk to me about the onyx shit you'll get shot

(play cease)
5 o'clock in the morning at ya door
Colt 4-4 I'm puttin' on your floor
Find you up the from ya house dead in the store
the beat like pigeons and I'm bucking 'em all
Press ya luck and you'll
Neva nothing this raw
I'm what the been waitin' for
no more
This wack shit can't take no
Should've banned the streets should've made it a law

(what ya want-eve)
I'm for war
What ya niggas (what, what, what, bring it)
touch
All y'all niggas even rob swizz beats
Nowadays gettin' 50 g's
Jack they beat kid I did my for free
Jerk you for ya pub I ain't a fee
I just it up on the mpc

(the party is on over here-busta rhymes)
Long as you live seen nothing this while
Took ya beat and flipped it in my style
Just payin' niggas be bitin' my style
And if it's dead in the crowd I put some in the crowd
God's gift to the
'em down
Fucking 'em
Empires be tumblin'
The end of the is comin' around
ya ass in the ground
Nothing to
the rules
Playin' for
I'ma shark in the it ain't safe in the streets
Sticky and I'm jackin' for beats