Luyện nghe bài hát Jackin' for Beats '99

* several different beats are 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 better get it right
Rappers better that beat fool
Clik clik you been now
You didn't know fingaz on ya track now
Somebody said you 1 in the streets
That's why I'm for you first jackin' your beat
I took ya 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)
robba robba
Jackin' rappers beats and 'em hotta hotta
Stealin' all ya spins plus ya dollas
Killas if you feel me just folla (what, come on)
Take it to the streets hold ya and bust the heat
Even if it's off plate I gots to eat
I'm on some bullshit for no reason
I want it wit y'all I'm ready to die

(hate me now-nas)
the rappers I rob
The that I take
The labels I
For 30 grand help you at the wake
Touch ya and everything I touch I take
me now 'cause later gon be too late
I you
Everything I spit is
I'm the illest they ever signed to universal
F the
I'm God son
As soon as blink 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 source
The real fifty from brooklyn God bless he got
You a fake clown who front and rout about 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
of fact 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 thought I get yo cake, ha
You that beat from the dirty south wasn't gon get raped, ha
And birds wanna sticky baby, ha
run around stayin' sticky crazy, ha
He ain't got no of sense, ha
No tellin' I do
Might even jack my own

(throw ya gunz-onyx)
The take 'em out bring 'em out dead
Comin' at me wrong kid I put thing to ya head
Sticky fingaz going for call the cops
Don't talk 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 floor
Find you up the block ya house dead in the store
the beat like pigeons and I'm bucking 'em all
Press ya luck and fall
seen nothing this raw
I'm what the been waitin' for
no more
This wack shit can't take no
Should've been banned the streets made it a law

(what ya want-eve)
I'm for war
What ya want (what, what, what, bring it)
Can't
All y'all sweet even rob swizz beats
Nowadays gettin' 50 g's
Jack beat kid I did my track 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 neva nothing this while
Took ya and flipped it right in my style
Just payin' niggas be bitin' my style
And if it's in the crowd I put some life in the crowd
God's to the underground
Running 'em
'em down
Empires be tumblin'
The end of the world is comin'
ya ass in the ground
Nothing to
the rules
Playin' for
I'ma shark in the waters it safe in the streets
Sticky and I'm jackin' for beats