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 better get it right
Rappers better gimme that fool
Clik clik you robbed now
You know sticky fingaz on ya track now
Somebody you number 1 in the streets
That's why I'm coming for you first jackin' beat
I took ya and rearranged it on some dumb shit
Got robbed on the broad day public
The loved it it's not a game
solo on that ass but it's still the same

(holla rule)
Beat robba
Jackin' beats and make 'em hotta hotta
all ya spins plus ya dollas dollas
Killas if you feel me just folla (what, come on)
Take it to the streets hold ya 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 y'all I'm ready to die

(hate me now-nas)
the rappers I rob
The that I take
The labels I
For 30 help you perform at the wake
ya life and everything I touch I take
Hate me now 'cause gon be too late
I you
Everything I spit is
I'm the illest killa ever signed 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 across ya jaw
ya ass in real life at the source awards
The real fifty from God bless he got outed
You just a fake clown who and rout about it
I got a new
For a few mil
Shoot to
You fruity like dru
You spare change you ain't even half a man
Matter of fact you ain't half the man ya moms was

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

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

(play cease)
5 o'clock in the morning killas at ya
Colt 4-4 I'm puttin' chalk on your
Find you up the block from ya 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 world waitin' for
no more
This shit can't take no more
Should've been the streets should've made it a law

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

(the party is goin' on over rhymes)
Long as you live neva seen this while
Took ya and flipped it right in my style
Just payin' back niggas be my style
And if it's dead in the crowd I put life in the crowd
God's to the underground
'em down
Fucking 'em
be tumblin' down
The end of the world is comin'
ya ass in the ground
Nothing to
the rules
Playin' for
I'ma in the waters it ain't safe in the streets
Sticky fingaz and I'm jackin' for