Luyện nghe bài hát Jackin' for Beats '99

* several beats 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 been now
You know sticky fingaz on ya track now
Somebody said you number 1 in the
That's why I'm for you first jackin' your beat
I took ya beat and rearranged it on dumb shit
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)
Beat robba
Jackin' rappers beats and make 'em hotta
Stealin' all ya spins plus ya dollas
if you feel me just folla folla (what, come on)
Take it to the streets hold ya gats and the heat
Even if it's off your I gots to eat
I'm on bullshit for no apparent 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 I snake
For 30 grand you perform at the wake
Touch ya life and everything I I take
Hate me now 'cause 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 turn fists across ya jaw
ya ass in real life at the source awards
The real from brooklyn God bless he got outed
You just a fake who front and rout about it
I got a new
For a few mil
Shoot to
You fruity dru hill
You spare change you ain't even half a man
of fact you ain't even half the man ya moms was

(ha-juvenile)
Oh you you was safe, ha
Though you escape, ha
we label 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
Dogs run around stayin' crazy, ha
He ain't got no 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 wrong kid I put thing to ya head
Sticky fingaz going for self the cops
Don't even talk to me about the shit you'll get shot

(play cease)
5 in the morning killas at ya door
Colt 4-4 I'm puttin' chalk on floor
you up the block from ya house dead in the store
Work the beat pigeons and I'm bucking 'em all
Press ya luck and fall
Neva seen this raw
I'm what the world waitin' for
Wait no
This wack shit can't no more
Should've been banned the should've made it a law

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

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